wide open stare

facing uncertainty

the sign read

the wonderful land of oz or bust

guilt runs rampid in the ranks

thumb on the hitchike

and the questions stink

unrighteous justice or

faceless atrocities and bombed out alleys

the tired tormented masses

Temples don’t bow down to me

illuminating shadows

this road is no home for the meek

falling past midnight

draped in linen rags and a wash of rain

the easel of my eyes

brushed the mud from my shoes

and another town

thank you for reading my work ,your claps and comments