hitch.

it ain't about running away,

i got nothing to hide from.

that's how ya die out there,

with no goal, no aim.

sure, it's about the travel in between
and all the honest faces offering ya

a plate of eggs or a ride back east

but destination is key, nothing

wrong with a home base,

a warm made bed to think

on as you're sleeping between trucks,

between meals, between the tales

of local lore.

me,

i don't know where i'm going

and that's my best excuse for having

not left yet.