I wrote this August 24, 1996 (just before my 21st birthday). I was sitting on a hill watching traffic go by when some fog rolled in. I got inspired, I guess.
Fog rolls in and covers us like a blanket.
It’s so thick, the heavens above cannot see beneath it.
Is it hiding us from the truth or protecting us?
Like blind rats we go on with little trust.
Looking for Utopia, Peace.
Searching until the end of lifes’ lease.
All the while its before our eyes.
But we don’t know it until we head for the skies.
The human race is so blind.
We go on each day with our daily grind.
Utopia is in our minds’ back door.
We might find it and beg for more.
We are not grateful for what or who we are.
We learned to constantly grab for the shinier star.