As I walk this world unforeseen until I reach that age where I am permitted to do anything; I walk the streets, alone and vacant until I find what I am searching for.
I walk the streets that are overcrowded, wandering past the bars with open doors, that billow the smell of stale alcohol and failures, past the frontiers trying to wave me in to see things I ought not to, past the score of women that try and make that corner their palace, evermore turning tricks.
Fruitless attempts for my mind is stacked wall to wall with idealess thoughts that devour me but I show no enjoyment in being eaten alive. But try as they might to break me down into a nothingness heap of matter, will seize at the dead end, lost.
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