Carry On Wayward Son11
Photocopies of self deposit in the roadside abandoned mailboxes rusted and warped wrapped around the stretch of highway. Save the letter for somebody someday. The time isn't now. Frozen ground slips under feet so tired. Move to the escalator travel. Blade swipe of cutting kiss across the neck and we feel the violation of sun in the bare eyes from out of the dark. It's the joystick autonomy that will make you prosper now you are brought to light. Gleaming and glossed skin like glass dew around picture frames left out doors until morning upon morning for the last decade. Paint peeling orange rust exposed. Make sure you are grounded like an anchor in the soil. Access and replace what is too extra to carry forward. It will only hold you back.