roadway*

things go the way I need them to – not how I want it; personal gain isn’t what I want to pursue.

everyday I will reveal something – something new; they’re aren’t any old things I think I want to do.

it doesn’t appease me anymore, I need substance; something with a core.

going down a turnpike with people watching sideline – throwing out strips of spikes.

it’s good though, and it’s fine.

I’m still going to win and receive what’s mine.

it’s out of your sight; but it was made up in my mind.

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