It was a long way to nowhere As I traveled on the trail of years It wasn't much of a road map That got me here
And now my conversations are the ones I write down Maybe if I had been an Indian I could be on a reservation But as it is I'm nowhere and that is where People are lost and never found
Being here is forever waving goodbye I could let my imagination lift me to a cloud up high And sad it would be waking up to see I'm down To nowhere and that's where people are lost and never found
Your poem is sad but thoughts are clear; not everything said has to be joyful. The trial of life is made by our own choices, sometimes destiny changes it as it happens. We must find our purpose, every life is unique. We get lost yet we find the way out. Being sure of ourselves and who we are will get us to places. Thanks for sharing. SM
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The trial of life is made by our own choices, sometimes destiny changes it as it happens. We must find our purpose, every life is unique. We get lost yet we find the way out. Being sure of ourselves and who we are will get us to places. Thanks for sharing. SM