Generic

The road I walk is an old road 
Trod by weary feet 
Pitted and cracked with age 
Hardened by weather and the dry desert air 
It's been rutted and torn into hardness 
By the fears and tears of those who traveled here 
The bare trees whistle and shake 
And the wind goes through my veins 
This road has history I fear 
For many have walked here 
But I have no part on this road 
It's not what will lead me home 
And so I look below 
To the friends I love and know 
They will come here soon I fear 
But the ghosts will not have me near 
And so I walk to what is down below 
To the green grass and the life I know

A Lonely Interest(Ln.)