The Wanderer

 

 

 

 The Wanderer

 

I journey from town to town with my bed roll and pack

I've never seen a sight that didn't seem better looking back

Been searching for so long I've forgot what I'm prospecting for

Just trying to pacify this storm that's becoming a war

 

Like a picture on a milk carton I'm not sure if I'm lost or found 

Or like a dog where I'm just chasing my tail around

Trying to come to terms with the loss of my mentor

But the rage inside is like waves crashing to the shore

 

There's no medicine for this pain I want to kill

Starting to wonder if finding the cure I ever will

As I stoke my campfire and swig down a shot of whiskey 

Sleeping is the only time these raging waters are still for me 

 

On an old steam train heading to the west coast 

I sit as I abscond from an old familiar ghost

In my heart of hearts I know it's sure to follow

No matter where I go I can't canter from its sorrow

 

No matter how fast or how far I travel I know

My ghost from the past will be where ever I go

An old worn out outlaw stuck in a peculiar time 

Searching for something I'll just never find

 

Trying to seal this chasm that's just too big and wide

Trying to breath life into the part of me that's died 

Like many of us, life bestowed on me a vile act

Things won't ever be the same I can't get past the fact

 

I stare out into the landscape that rushes past 

Thinking to myself just how long will I last 

Time flys by like a bullet from a gun but still I feel the same 

As I down another whiskey bottle trying to dampen the pain

 

Sometimes this dusty trial I wonder where it will end

Across these flats and goat tracks I see just around the bend

All I want to be is back where life once had desire

Where a cowpoke rested with his posse around the fire 

 

Those days I reminisce have all but scattered to the winds 

I guess an outlaw would eventually pay for his sins 

I fear or I believe I'll be the last man standing in the end

Wearing tattered boots and a worn heart unable to mend 

 

Time will punish me with a prolonged existence 

While memories will gnaw with reckless persistence 

Be as that may, time can't erase what I had

Thee memories of my mentor when I was a wee lad

 

I hold close to thy heart like a good 5 card poker hand 

Which smugly I've held onto through the years as a man 

Memories are the corner stones that I have fondly built 

At times yes they have fractured with the gunfire of guilt 

 

I'll patiently rock fourth and back in my chair

Until the knock on my door from TIME is here

I'll gracefully answer it as I struggle with me frail bones

With a smile and my old worn hat I'll finally get to go home

 

 

 

 

 

 

To leave a comment, please sign in with
or or

Comments (7)

  1. belladora

    Welcome back. It;s been a while. Beautiful

    October 30, 2016
    1. wonderwall79

      Arrrr indeed mam indeed been trying to wander back here for quite some time now
      A pleasure to hear from you as always, I’m back in the familiar saloon as they say for awhile
      How have you been

      October 31, 2016
      1. belladora

        Been wonderful.. teehee. Nice to have you back.

        November 02, 2016
        1. wonderwall79

          Splendid mam, nice to be back among esteemed friends

          November 02, 2016
  2. macabre360

    Indeed a immaculate ode to weary souls such as we.
    Upon so lonely a trek of witch we may never be free.
    Yours roamin’ upon a endless dusty old trail along a far distant prairie.
    I through a sky at times so dark and lonely I can navigate it just barely.
    Both heavyhearted spirits or apparitions along this journey so long and vast.
    With little to go on save for a lost notion we’ll one day find our home at last.

    October 30, 2016
    1. wonderwall79

      couldnt have said it any bettter than that
      Once again good sir I raise my hat
      Your words having great effect
      Which is why I have immense respect
      Having watched our landscapes change
      This world to us seems empty and strange
      whether my wing or hoof
      Our fear is now the truth

      October 31, 2016
  3. clate1979

    We really enjoy allot with the reading of this poetry cum story that is having good thoughts about the traveling of the alone man. The research paper writing is having the own importance. This poetry is having good shape of the beauty.

    December 22, 2016