Which Way Now

From segments born of early words

Among the scribbles on the wall

Before the obvious turned oblivious

To how the ending might befall

Somebody ought to write it down

So many lessons might be learned

But then again there's much to read
So many manuscripts returned

White pages giving blank looks
To pleading gazes unreturned
Soft shimmering’s of glimmerings

Leave the seed of ideas burned

Laughing echoes leap off yesterdays
Where hailing fellows used to meet
Then disappeared in hazy shadows
Where once a home was in that street