Exit Strategy

They cross me.
These streaks of agate.
They're red and warning.
But I'm already out of bed.
They cross me.
These streets, like a death.
Bright and sunny.
This is fast becoming.
Not my design.
This isn't what I had in mind.
It struck me.
Last night, what you said.
It's almost funny.
How quickly you forget.
This is fast becoming not my design.
I think it's up and running from what I had in mind.
This isn't what I had in mind.