The Cartographer’s Lament:

Pricked by the Thorns of the Compass Rose

I’m driving

But I’m driving in circles

I’ve got a map that I can’t read

And a compass that points due Wrong

But I’ve got all that I need

That is, indeed

If what I need

Is to leave home to find my way home

Back home to a place

Where what is known

Is that the answers are not

Back home to a place

Where what I remember

Is the fact that I forgot

Never mind that I’m driving forward

I always find I end up back

Back to a desire to move forward

Toward the knowledge I lack

A legend says it without a word

Back home to draw another map