Down and out in his last pair of shoes
just walkin' this dusty road singin' the blues
hands stretched out in empty pockets
thoughts en route to the moon in shiny rockets
a careless breeze stirs up a tumbleweed
the sun illuminates every deed.
The night lights have come and gone
left laugh lines crudely drawn,
passions and possessions he drops along the miles
hoping to another they might make it all smiles.
Twenty years to the day, been twenty years too long
trying to find the words to end his song.
No one on his way to nowhere
following a map inked in prayer,
and as the moon catches up to days shadow
he falls from the darkening blue like a swallow
into waiting hands, in nature purely divine,
casting off this heart of a swine.
3 days ago