I see in front of me a road and path,
It winds and turns and throws me back,
I walk and run but no difference is made,
My legs are weak and I see my grave.

I go backwards and forwards,
The Cheshire cat I see,
“Which way do I go?”
And comes his reply,
“That all depends on where you want to be.”

Before my eyes all spun around,
The melded colors flew all around,
And my eyes were fixed on one road,
And suddenly I knew where I wanted to be,
But there I was, just my path, and me.