Cracks in the pavement

Where do people go when there's nothing left to do?

Those people I see wandering around in a dreary labyrinth every day; faces too drawn out to give me a clue as to why or who or what.  I hope I never become one of those people who I see every morning. They wander as if cut adrift from the purpose, it may have never really existed.

I hope there's always something to do.
I hope there's always me and you.
I hope there's always adventures.
I hope there's always the blankets of clouds that seem to stretch forever.
I hope there's always the things that make us feel alive.
I hope there's always sheets of lined paper, cut into squares.
I hope there's always hope.

Speak soon
Take care
Ben