A minute of calm, then the sky turns tight, same streetlight buzz, same drained white light. We don’t “move on”, we just move through, stacking bad weather like it’s something to do. Head down, hands full—keep the pace in line, teeth on the rhythm, one step at a time. No speeches. No cure. Just the next breath in the same old air— and the next one after that. Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) One Storm ends.— (Ends!) Another Stands. (Stands!) Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) No Sun. (No Sun!) Just Move! (Just Move!) You win a small minute and call it “okay”, then hear it coming up the stairs again. We patch the day with cheap tape and coffee, pretend we’re fine because it’s easier. If you stop, it catches up— so you keep time like a bruise you can’t show. Not brave. Not blessed. Just trained to keep going. Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) One Storm ends.— (Ends!) Another Stands. (Stands!) Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) No Sun. (No Sun!) Just Move! (Just Move!) Head down. (Head Down!) Hands full. (Hands full!) KEEP GOING— Same road. New Clouds. (New Clouds!) Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) One Storm ends.— (Ends!) Another Stands. (Stands!) Same Road. (Same Road!) New Clouds. (New Clouds!) No Sun. (No Sun!) Just Move! (Just Move!) JUST MOVE!
