Somedays this whole
that I don't feel
is like a hole
that needs filling.
An empty space
that won't let go.
Another place I find
myself in that's growing old.
But that's the highway
talking, because
if I was a walking
man I would have gone
home a long time ago.

I was there
66, through Albuquerque
Passing flag staff. Land
Of the cacti, hippies blowing
Smoke from arazonian glass.
Flower children and hard working
Laborers, I hit L.A seeing the
Whiskey a go-go, some band's
Made it to the stage, others a
No-show. Some to down and
Out broke or ******!
I was there back in the era
66-69. The farmers got together
With the hip ones to keep the
Sun inside these dark States
Shine.

~~
Alone, wandering within a dream,
Moving Perpendicular of Counter Clock
Rolling with the Round Stones, Knocking,
Echoing restlessly one after another
Not a romantic tune at all
Feelings are falling randomly
while lovely aromas in the air,
Lights dimming all the ugly duration
while some Faces of Friends hanging
with the Smiles of Sunshine,
Goes slowly between the dreams and shadows
And the sorrows those borrowed
From the chimes of the river,
Over the Silver water while moonlight
Shimmering in a very full moon night.
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen