"I am on the road where I've been told“. I pedal. Faster. I am on the road where hearts turned cold. I pedal. Faster. My hair plays with the wind and I am reminded of those frosty days when the kids were romping through the snow. I want to leave this town where I am counting the city lights just to survive that perfect storm. I need to leave. I am sick to death of walking through those sleeping halls where white walls and green floors are bringing me back to the day the mouse left. Slowly. Her sons heart will be brave enough. Yes I am done. I am done once more and I am handshaking with tragedy. There will be a last dawn. There will be a last day. There will be a last night. It drives me to my knees. This is my last goodbye to yesteryear. It's like a last letter with a very last peck. I place the sad writ keeping the past into a casket to carry it to it's grave. This is the end.