Trudging along thinking about the past
As the same old story is set to last
Plotting in my maps of memories pleading to the sky
As I’m lost on life’s highway just swotting at the flies
Once and a while there’s a Roadhouse selling happiness
As I walk out the door I get it together more or less
The shimmering highway stretches out ahead
Thinking all the time about what’s left behind instead
I paid my dues and I’ll take the ride
Leaving nothing except my foolish pride
For the world will turn and the wind will blow
And at the end of it all what will I really know.
© Paul Warren Poetry