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Hobo
Wish I were a hobo
With no where to run
Nothing to run from
Please only yourself
No worries of wealth
Walk down to the beach
Warm grainy sand on your feet
Alone on the bench
Distant look in your eyes
Known one knows your thoughts
You know you’re deprived
Wish I were a hobo
Living on a beach
Sun soaks on your back
Breeze across your face
No worries, just cares
No regrets, freedom
No sorrow, love
I wish I were a hobo
Watch the cold world turn
Not a thing to yearn
With my knowing eyes
And my smirking grin
I wish I were a hobo
So that when I die
They would find writings
Of all the ‘normal’ people that walked by.
i really like this one. most people think of being a hobo as something negative, yet you see the postive aspects of it.