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Marched


Help me please I don't know what to do; I'm lost in the

middle of the road I look like a fool. The wind keeps

blowing hard in my face, my jacket to the wind and

leaves all over my face. But I march on true, like a

soldier in the night blue. Where I'm going not a clue,

so cold I may have the flu. But I march on and on till

I get somewhere I want to open my eyes to look but

with winds like this to look I do not dare. I march

March and March till the wind stop blowing in my face.

Then I come to realize that I had marched in place