Like leaves fallen in an October wind
dreams came not to fruition
rather a drought destroyed harvest
fouled by granary rats
Roads leading not where I started
ending not where I stopped
taking me places not intended
places not imagined
Not to be bound and shackled
my boots always near the door
searching for true love
fleeing commitment
Songs of restlessness and rambling
tales meant for open highways
crossing half a nation seeking you
leaving to return a broken mind
Near four decades ago
did you blow out of the dust bowl
claimed by love or
doomed by the needle buried in your arm
dreams came not to fruition
rather a drought destroyed harvest
fouled by granary rats
Roads leading not where I started
ending not where I stopped
taking me places not intended
places not imagined
Not to be bound and shackled
my boots always near the door
searching for true love
fleeing commitment
Songs of restlessness and rambling
tales meant for open highways
crossing half a nation seeking you
leaving to return a broken mind
Near four decades ago
did you blow out of the dust bowl
claimed by love or
doomed by the needle buried in your arm
©Michael Shelby 2010
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