Drifter

Drifter

The wind howls as the cold rain chills my bones.
I am a drifter who has no place to call his home.
I have been on my own since I was a young man.
Searching for excitement while traveling this land.

I thought California would end my drifting around.
But not so after one month I was Georgia bound.
I have traveled to every state for at least one time.
I have not sewn any seeds at a place to call mine.

I have only myself to care for and to worry about.
I've nothing else that would make a man proud.
My drifting days are getting harder never to end.
On those railroads tracks many places I've been.

I can't go any longer my bones are much to old.
Sleeping on the floor of boxcars is hard and cold.
I guess I will start sleeping under bridges in town.
Maybe somewhere on a street like an old hound.

BY: Kings

© Copyright 2001 Kings (UN: piewhackett1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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