He was a rolling stone.


How many miles must a man run
until he finds the place where he feels he is from?
How many places must he visit
until, to no one; he is a misfit?
where should he go when there is nothing left unknown?
Above all else, who should he return to along the path he has flown?
there is no destination for a man who has traveled a million miles.
No life. No love. No home.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem