The easel stroke brush against anti-selfs favorite corner
in an attempt to always make the right turn on open fields
of wonder.
"Do that", they said.
"That's a safe and smart route to take!"
And so he did.
No motorized vehicles to disrupt focus
with their attention-whoring present-time themed
"I am here"
time signatures in a void of subtle woe is me-noise
and false assumptions to what the speed limit is.
Grassy knolls stay green behind the mask of shadows
waiting for someone to have a picnic for once, but no.
The horizon taste of bittersweet victory laps of wasted effort
in an un-educated guess of what ambition and risk entails.
Pave the way for certainty 'till its routine is baked
into the soul of 9-5 mantras and yoga classes.
"Let me see where this road takes me.", he sighed.
The voice of reason laughed with contempt
as the silent guard of a double moralists
vague attempt at being brave.
It snarled from beneath the wall of sheltered excitement:
"Why don't you hide in the tall grass for once and see what's lurking?!"
"One day. Perhaps...", he said to himself.
And kept following the easel strokes' guided path
to regret and thoughts of
what could have been.