Late Reaction
Sometimes I stare at absolutely nothing
and that nothing turns into a picture in my mind
It turns into a fantasy of what the future might bring
The pictures I see are either pleasant or unkind
I see myself walking slowly down a path
contemplating on which road i should take
The direction to go requires some math
but whichever I choose may be my mistake
I might hit some clouds and even some shadows
It's whatever is held in that crystal ball
I might see some sun or flowers in meadows
as long as I keep going, ill never fall
