I have come to walk
On your earlier made footprints
A garden of designs
Made by barefoot individuals
None of the prints go into the room or out
They are all in the dark corners of you
Always in the spaces where spiders make their webs
Mine of course are the footprints leading to these spaces
But never finding my way out of the room
Of the corners entangled in a web
Forever lost in dreams of wishing
Wishing to find my own self
Imagining what I was like
Thinking possibly
That I was put here to find out

End
James M. Williams 1998