retracing my steps in hopes to find
some part of me that may be somewhere left behind
there’s a fear, there’s a point, there is a problem
what if what I find won’t solve any of them
and I wonder why I have no motivation
I guess I just answered my own question
I’m not the golden boy so don’t shine me on
I’m the [bad word] son of romantic babylon
with veins that are all fashioned out of copper
a past design not destined to be concurred
but like anything there is a flaw inscripted deep
that may explain everything