So days & nights come, go; for longer than I care to recall both sun & moon keep finding me here; stuck at a point yet on the road. These wastelands; the same in every direction; always nothing to look forward to & only nothing to look back on. I can'��t help feel like a weathering tree being defiled of leaves; Strange, how these little things we take for granted are the treasures hardest to come by & easiest to lose. "I'm not lost at the very least I try to believe but somewhere in my head there's an unsatisfied itch I just can't scratch away"...aren'��t we all?"�� ...

Good read