The matters of survival…came minus a note.
It arrived with no fanfare…
Teasing me…so, perhaps, I would not know it was there.
The tactics did not grasp at straws.
It was kindred to a hungry, stray dog…giving to a constant gnaw.
Eating and thriving …
Instincts purposeful and raw.
By happenstance, my strategy began under covers.
I stuck my head in a sand of cotton.
Instead of waking up…I came to.
All but the pain had been forgotten.
And, thus I began my infinite walk towards survival.
Yet, I have never been a fan of the games people play.
Always had to do things my own way.
Discovering…long ago, when walking alone, there is no deceiving with the faces we portray.