Geraiah

I walk this dusty path back and forth staring at the rows
of trees i pass but never really paying attention to where im going or
where i've been, its simple, with the dust in my eyes and the sun
crusting my skin to a hue of orange that makes the mountain sides look
bleak, and broken, in a chain of cloudless blue sky and the simplistic
melodies of crickets, or the songs of birds hovering near, break my
train of thought so i dont have to try so hard to understand why the
world is what it is and why i feel like i am dying inside