Find Your Way Home Poem by William Mowell

I lie under these western skies
I hide behind these hazel eyes

I ride a horse of a different breed
And my words you doth read

I breath a poets last breath
This heart cease to pound, under my breast

The willow gives a second wind
Another road gets another bend

A china shop another bull
A slave will find another mule

The wind will chill the bone
Until you find your way home

A path less taken will find you
A road home will carry you through