Have some faithndon’t you know that this is not a racenand we are not contenders now.nSo ask questions likenwhich truth is the truth with which I chose to define myselfnand bare all my insecurities?nnThese cobbled streets and stone walls can’t contain us.nnThis knot in my stomachnis the result of all I envynand the route to my redemption.nIt reminds me that I am a mess of bone and tissuenand a slave to my own ambitions.nnWe can only be ignored for so longnnSo lets get back on that horse, take the road less travelled and get away from this town of claustraphobic creativity. Let’s start afresh, leave the embers of this burnt out city to settle on the stunted seeds in which it has poured its misplaced trust.nnLets see from a different perspective the sun, the sky, the moon, the stars, the sea, sand, trees, clouds, train lines, road signs, motorways and slip roads, postcards, dreamy days, winters end and spring beginnings, window seats, cats eyes caught in corner glances,late night adventures, firesides and the dirt grey contrast of the high rise with lights calling us home; an orange glow snaking its path across green fields, towns and cities. Drawing lines across maps to open up new sights, sounds, and the infinite possibility of the horizon.