you will

change your mind at the crossroad, though it is not apparent now when morale is high and the birds are singing sweetly to go for the treacherous path ahead. zig zag, a wrong turn means a fall off the cliff and no ropes to catch that slip but hey - confidence is high, the birds are flapping wings excitedly. it's going to be a glorious morning that is what you say to yourself, pep talk already the mind envisions the prize at the end: dopamine elevation, muse reignited, muse taking wings flying to the heavens to catch a rainbow's promise and the thick gray clouds swirl about lazily, almost deliberate that has to be an active imagination, clouds don't do that do they? shrug off a nervous vibe, turn off those distractions, head out for the open road while the wild flowers crane in to do a dance, foxes with a plan decorate the pathway with dizzy delights, take a cool aid and remember who sponsored this event! go about merry ways, the signs on each turn clear as day, never been switch said the good cop with sunglasses - it is hard to tell if he is making a hint, then the runners came from behind, like a stampede, noise deafening with angry knights stomped to the ground. ain't a nice thing to do: and a bad cop appears from thick grasses, handcuffs the riots though they declared it was all fair game. ain't no such thing the bad cop spat, a glob of slime slickered down a runners forearm, yuks said another companion who tried to break free and got tangled by cunning traps laid out by wise foxes. ah thank you, good and bad cops both gave appreciation for capturing wanted criminals ... ... and you paused at all these commotions, but a sudden inspiration came along: roads empty now and go for a dash, woooooooooow weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee aoooooooooooooooooo the wind seems to uplift you, flapping wings of many birds what a force - breathless as you soar into the sky and reach to grasp the silver lining, so much silver with all these clouds gathering as if to simply celebrate this victory, a lightning slices through the air, cuts that fantasy literally. as pieces of colored rainbows fade to nothingness and as for air and morale wooooooooooooooosh splooooooooooooooooooosh as you land hard on all fours right in a hole cleverly dug by foxes calculating. it's rigged, i'm played, someone help. and the birds they heard, held on for a long time they did, all that stuffed up bowels needs release: splat, splat, splat droppings all over with morale low, that silver has ended with a drenched coat, a stink, with bruises all over, not exactly that exuberant vision - but hey, don't beat yourself up over it, happens to everyone, you know these lofty dreams, these fantastical stories it's what children dream when mommy and daddy need to get them to sleep.