The Journey I

Life is
still a journey
even if it
stops dead and you
knock your head
bad against its
wall - I

broke down,  my
machinery collapsed
and I found it
hard to
lift my head, believe

the landscape
I woke to.  I

felt the journey over I
felt the broken
heart within and
winning nothing, cried.

How life
lied to me with its
hope and  promises.  I
stop dead still, and
ill I watch the

soft rain fall, trying
to catch a
piece of will in
water to keep
going

out of this
imprisoning.

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