I'm in my eighth month of this journey
There have been highs and plunging lows
Many a word has been on the gurney
I've seen poets come and poets go

It was a sixties' high to have readers
For people to comment and like my words
My advice heeders and some needers
Meaningful relationships soon occurred

It has been a place where I've laughed and cried
A world of birthdays and sweet victories
A painful universe, euphoria died
Poets passed, nothing remains but histories

The trip of a lifetime in less than a year
Why do we write, why do we read and care?
It's more than I can emotionally hear
It's more than I can emotionally bare

At one point, I was addicted to this place
Constantly reading, checking, and writing
No narcissist could persist at such a pace
With poets I did some loving and fighting

Life forced me on the highway well traveled
I decided I'd leave this country for now
Yet with this decision, I have often graveled
I always found myself looking back somehow

Oceans, mountains, dales, and unexplored bends
That's this poetic journey desired so
No matter if we're laughing or crying my friends
We poets have or want nowhere else to go