I have to go.
I have to go.
I have to get off this road.
This path does not lead home.
Every road I have traveled, led me to the same place.
At the crossroads I stand, tired from trying to walk at everyone else’s pace.
I have to go.
I have to go.
I have to get off this road.
The up and down hills.
The flooded roads that I am forced to swim.
Here I stand at the crossroads again, forced to use my broken compass from within.
I have to go.
I have to go.
I have to get off this road.
I am the barren tree in the forest of evergreens.
I can’t offer shade, from the suns misery.
So what is my purpose, I ask you, tell me.
I have to go.
I have to go.
I have to get off this road.
By: Mariana Golphin
