The weather was a little colder then a mild September,
I was driving fast,
Trees and cars blurred as I passed them,
I wasn't quite sure where I was going, but anywhere was better then here,
My phone kept ringing, over, and over, and over again,
Left to my own, thinking, that's what I really needed,
But no matter how far I drove, it wasn't quite far enough,
So I continued,
Through the day, Through the night,
Far beyond where the weeks turned to months,
Far beyond the months turned to years,
Although my endeavor has seemed so very short,
I've been gone quite a while according to others,
I think back to the place I was born,
About the hot Summers and cold Winters,
How the trees turned colors,
How every person had met,
It was such a peaceful place,
Yet, not I a place to think.
I must stop,
I must not go,
But there's something in my blood,
I desire to roam,
There's still whispers and thoughts,
About why I did all this running,
But my thinking is needed,
And my reasoning is simple,
I've just never been to good at staying in one place long.