i look over my shadow

and i realise it is extremely tender and slim

and while i may like it

i am frightened that

if i keep on walking

through the passage of time

i will stare at the dead pavement

without a shadow to look at

and while i walk this trodden path

and the streetlights cast my shadow

upon the cement

again and again

like a never-ending nightmare

i realise that this was not the path i’ve chosen

nor the one i wanted

towards my fated end

and the flow of time

numbingly moves my body forward

without my awareness

this was not the path i’ve chosen

nor the one i wanted

towards my fated end;

i think i got the wrong street

and i’m headed towards another home

i must head home

i need to head home.

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