Lonely Roads

Rusted cans and rolling stones

And a squirrel climbing wood

With a staring eyes that forward crawl

The mice might have found a little crumb.

Birds return to their lovely ones

And the winds go searching for quiet place

An ant might somewhere find a way out sea

While the sky shows the various shades.

But somewhere else a girl walks slow

Knowing not why her thoughts wander

With the memories of the days

Those has passed and are yet to come.

…Thus on the silent lonely roads

All do walk as lonely souls…