Pity Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Steady beat and rhythm galloping along with writing, leaving
the main road, finding dusty trails that lead to parts un-
known and forgotten.

Escaping from the mundane arc of life for adventures of the
wild west outside the box, exercising rights and freedom of
my soul.

Riding incessantly into the sunset of the next horizon, find-
ing just the right pace to keep on track, succinctly finding
words, ideas and definitions that match silently in rhymes.

Going down inner train tracks of possibility, crossing and re-
crossing them, seeing things that appear and interest this
mind, loving details closely that many others fail to see.

Being too busy many times filling their calendars and agendas,
nothing to stop and catch their eye, not even the beauty of a
red rose, a pity they're so involved in their egos and selves.