At a loss.
Not a crossroads, more of a bend
That won’t stop bending
Without ending
No sign of the straight. Or narrow.
No light at the end of the tunnel.

Loads of roadsigns though.
Full of eastern promise.
But still there’s no pretending…
That this bend
Is showing no sign
Of ending
Any time soon.

Ooh, wait a minute.
That looked familiar.
I think I’ve been here before.

You don’t think it’s possible,
Whisper it from the rooftops,
That we’re living on a globe?