I know this road, I call it home
Familiar it is and yet so cold
But just around the bend lies a path
Never taken before
Merely glimpsed, a passerby
And yet I cannot shake it
There is a bird I often see
Always a stone at his feet
Later will come tomorrow
And will it be so bad?
She is here and she is now
She is warm and I forget
How many times have I wondered
How green the grass can be ?
How many times have I wanted
To take that faithful leap?
How can I leave what I have found?
How will I know what to be?
Why can't I settle for the hand not bitten?
The hand so ready to feed?