Late Night Drives Home
by, 20th March 2009 at 05:28 AM (393 Views)
Here is a poem I wrote, just thought I'd post it here.
The wild and crazy have left from the night.
Time to drive home, but I'm feelin' alright.
As I pass the familiar scenes back to home,
I am free to reflect during this time alone.
What is it exactly? It's much more than my crib.
Home is where you belong, it's where you live.
But living is so much more than where you sleep, eat, and pee.
It's more than a house, family, furniture, and T.V.
In my drunken and burnt-out state,
I listen to the words of radio songs and sort of meditate.
I think about life and how it will someday end.
So I decide to live it right, surrounded by family, fun and friends.
It's like in movies when the dude learns he has little time before he dies.
So he does all the stuff he wants to do before time passes him by.
Skydiving, singing, even bitching out his boss.
It's funny how we have such balls when we think life is about to be lost.
But why not live that way all the time?
The end is inevitable, so you might as well let your light shine.
Death knocking on the door shouldn't be what makes life fun.
Death is coming too soon, but don't just wait for life to be done.
It's what runs across the meadows of my mind at night, behind the wheel.
I think deep thoughts like this and write down what I feel.
So back to 'home' and what exactly that is.
Home is love, happiness, friends, and the time spent enjoying all this.
So as I drive and the dark, empty roads run in the cool summer air.
I stop worrying about defining home, because I'm already there.
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