somewhere, anywhere, with anyone, and still shoulders on, and continues to work and plod and barrel down the highway, and the rest fall by the wayside, they wither away, and you wonder, why start in the first place? and all the posers, all those not strong enough to last, smarter for stopping, not stubborn enough, not careless, and it keeps going, maybe not as strong, maybe not as long, maybe, not quite what it once was, with an audience of one, a long cry from heady days of readership, but the disc is calling, and i must answer, and so it goes, funny that, so it goes, but faith shoulders on, continues and elipses