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Drifting thought

Sitting here on a coach
I am going back home
Wonder if it will be the same
Carrying my thoughts true

Memories pas by each moment
Green pastures on the other side
Small roads holding me
I use to live around here

What is home now?
Years have flowed on
Home has drifted away
A place to be that’s me

The arms that held me
They seem distant now
Who holds my ways
Where is the truth I ask

The silence deafens me
Talk damn you show it
Where my head lies down
Damn you again you clown

Talk and show that place
Will I ever know where it is
Before I leave all things
Shall I just rest here a while

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
Just started out on a 9 hour coach trip to go Home
Editing stage: 


sometimes going home the heart journeys far from present

Thank you for your walk with me, we have many homes as we pass through this world.
Do we remember them al, as we travel from place to place, is our memories so fragile that they play with our ways.
I wonder what response we would get if we asked each one where their home was.
Have a lovely day,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

author comment

this is how i think on the bus in the city..
my notepads when i write.....

i like how its random and free range
kind of poetry.....
i like how you can write these pattered
kind of poetry....which is good and
then this gem arrives from your pen

to me this is what i like..
the random
the interesting
from the norm...

thank you...

I use to write these random places bits a while back,
they are archived now.
I use to love writing on buses in bars
and many other random places.
People in bars I would write on beer mats, other times as you I would carry a few pieces of paper to scribble as thoughts came through.
We loose so many of these random thoughts of poetic worth.
Thank you for walking with me for a while, I see you in a lodge sitting cross legged by a fire drinking in the Spirit loves.
Have a great time young Wolf you are loved by many,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

author comment
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