Always looking over my shoulder
Wondering what I’ll see
The end of a journey
All anxious and hurried
I found my focus
Well, it found me
Whether it’s the raucous, the feral
Or ones behind locked gates
They all gravitate towards the edges of ledges
While wearing blinders on their face
If someone would show me thier perfect utopia
I’d turn right round to see
How they were succeeding
Instead I concede
People are only as good as they need be
But what really bothers me is
A people are largely defined by their edges
Not their center
More like the rings around Saturn
It becomes what you’re known for
Whether it’s the raucous, the feral
Or ones behind locked gates
They all gravitate towards the edges of ledges
While wearing blinders on their face
2024 River Glen Records, LLC