Maybe

Blue, blur, blow, slow.
Time passes from green to brown.
Wind changes and yet feels the same.
An unwilling participant in this reoccurring game.

Turn, churn, bliss, miss.
Sitting and wondering back and forth.
Greener on the other side I see.
Dark clouds up ahead how can this be?

Simple, ample, easy, greedy.
Wandering wondering pondering eyes.
Gut feelings in its full force.
Should I gallop away or remain with the dark horse?

J.M. Åkesson