Token and sixty-five in my palm, unsure of my departure
And how to arrive into the window’s light clearing my iris’s aperture
Here I stand thinking of a great deal
Upon what has happened this week and how I feel
Sitting here on this coach for an hour
With the same constants on my mind from before
Praise and grace upon this afternoon weather
Though humble my mind maybe no longer
Upon this seat feeling perturb
I glance at the passing buildings and each street’s curb
Rather questioning my place in Philadelphia
Sadly taking the past and thinking like a pariah
Melodies flood my mind, as the flashing rings shined
Shuttering lenses remain my view as I began to unwind
But from the morning of this Sunday all I thought was that of one
Withdrawn, as I stride from a second gone