Lost Future Poem by Travesty Greenwood

Winding along the slow road to nowhere,
sky gray overhead,
a dull wanderer,
head in the clouds.

I came to this crossing hours ago,
though centuries might have flown by.
And here I was, head stuck in the sky,
winding along the slow road to nowhere.

I chose myself, I couldn't let anyone carry the burden,
slowly winding, waiting for the world to wait on me
and hand me my lost future—
Lost, all because of the slow road to nowhere.

The slow road was a haven
but the steep hill, a journey
to lands unknown, risky and rewarding.
If I had climbed the latter
I might have died along the way,
but I wouldn't be winding
along the slow road to nowhere.