Journey

Very often I find myself

Wandering long and lonely roads

Armed with a broken compass

And a badly drawn map

I plod on

Arriving at a crossroads

I wonder which way to go

On my left ebony

On my right ivory

And the middle ground

Where I stand

Sometimes alone

Sometimes in the company of friends

Like in a quiet railway station

We measure our lives

Spoon by spoon

As we walk down this path

Which we have chosen

Who knows what lies in the end?

Who knows if there really is an end?

This is a journey we have embarked on

Without a destination in mind

But wherever we go, we are not alone

The Bilge Master

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