Will It And Pray
tired of the grind
and wanting to speak my mind
without fear or tether,
birds of a feather flock together,
in the pages and the lines,
i’ll depict the essence of my times,
and ruminate about other climes,
whilst wishing I was on a road,
remembering the life of ole Tom Joad,
digging dirt with my hands,
spinning circles in the sands,
drinking tea to cool my head,
turning cold ground into my bed,
wearing the uniform of a traveling soul,
eating diner cream of wheat from a bowl,
winking at my hopeless waitress,
spying her thighs and dreaming her my mistress,
slugging coffee like wine,
waxing my moustache into a thin line,
caring little for time,
feeling alone with my engine whine,
tearing pages from a gideon’s book,
and hanging my coat on a rusty hook,
sharing a smoke with a stranger,
keeping an eye out for danger,
kicking cans in a lot,
fighting my mind’s will to rot,
shirking cover when it rains,
confronting my demons and pains,
licking flakes of velvet snow,
nodding wisely to truckers in the know,
when i answer the call,
the leaves blow in the fall,
crispy winds as i walk,
going for days without talk,
in the end i will see,
all that waits and longs to be free,
where they will it and pray,
then sulk like a stray,
i will make mine ring true,
and sing a song of delta blue.
