Riding, riding along this foamy wave,
With dreams and hope my way to pave.
(Round and round this same dark cave.)
Whizzing, whirling on this geared bike,
With dreams and hope to ease the hike.
(Racing and racing on this same spike.)
No road's strong that's built in the mind,
No such road will I ever find.
(Save those of the collapsible kind.)
Searching not for the right foundation,
But the right worker and right station.
(All you create will collapse an-) Begone!
You've had enough attention.
No comments:
Post a Comment