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Slow But Sure

Why did I leave?
Walking down this road,
Dreams folded in this suitcase,
Asking fate with a thumb toward heaven.

Walking down this road,
Thinking I can’t go back,
Asking fate with a thumb toward heaven.
Walking subconsciously, just thinking.

Thinking I can’t go back.
Looking at those faded signs.
Walking subconsciously, just thinking.
I never looked back.

Looking at those faded signs,
Wondering how I’m going to die.
I never looked back.
Those bright devil eyes keep on passing.

Wondering how I’m going to die.
Hoping maybe I’ll just wither away.
Those bright devil eyes keep on passing.
The sound of total emptiness plays.

Hoping maybe I’ll just wither away,
Maybe on this forsaken patch of dirt.
The sound of total emptiness plays.
The darkness still covers my eyes.

Maybe on this forsaken patch of dirt,
The dark night air will choke me clean.
The darkness still covers my eyes,
Like a blind man in an invisible city.

The dark night air will choke me clean.
Still trudging on, slow but sure.
Like a blind man in an invisible city.
I just keep thinking.

Still trudging on, slow but sure,
Wondering when the road will end.
I just keep thinking,
Why did I leave?

Author notes

This poem provokes thoughts of an old man walking on a long stretch of highway out in a desert in the midwest. I like this poem, and somehow, it reminds me of 'The Grapes of Wrath'.

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