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About twenty-five miles

Got about twenty-five miles to go,
and it's hot as h*ll on this road.
This black ribbon of tar is smoking,
as I watch heat rising ghostly
as I'm stepping slowly; d*mn thirsty.

Got about twenty-four miles to go,
been no vehicles on this road:
The saguaros keep me company.
They stand waving at me in the heat.
Sand's too hot to take a shady seat.

Got about twenty-three miles to go,
and this pavements burning my feet
through these bargain-store shoes.
Getting tired, and nowhere to sleep,
sun going down and just muffins to eat.

Got about twenty-two miles to go,
slept by some rocks last night,
nearly shivered myself to sleep,
The sun is rising and I'm walking
down the black miserable travailing.

Got about twenty-one miles to go,
going to make good time though.
Get as far as I can before the heat
is so bad it'll melt my feet, and then
so to speak, I'll lose my best friends.

Got about twenty miles to go,
and it's heating up the way so
I'll be slowing down and resting.
Got to keep up my strength though.
Maybe travel at night won't be so slow.

Got about nineteen miles to go,
should've thought of this miles ago.
It's real dark but I've the moon with me.
Saw some lizard that scared me some,
but I scared him too and boy did he run.

Got about eighteen miles to go,
and making good time this night.
Heard some animals moving light,
and one big one, but didn't see him.
There's some rocks to day in, to rest in.

Got about seventeen miles to go,
sun is still up...didn't sleep long.
Must not have needed it though.
Traveling at night I'm not so tired;
I'll rest until the sun has retired.

Got about sixteen miles to go,
I've got to get where I'm going.
I should have been there by now,
but I didn't think I'd be walking.
My God! It is really, truly raining!

Got about fifteen miles to go,
The rain felt great and refreshed me.
I actually can see where I'm going,
the rain made it much better traveling.
Heard animals out there, maybe drinking.

Got about fourteen miles to go,
Steadily walking, I've picked up pace.
I can feel the wind on my sweaty face,
and I'm feeling good; better find a place
with shelter from the sun; a shady space.

Got about thirteen miles to go,
seems as though I'll never get there.
Found an old wooden shack intact,
had table and chairs, and a rack at that.
I need some rest today not just a nap.

Got about twelve miles to go,
stars are really bright, no moon tonight,
going to be a really dark journey.
I've been walking for a while now,
perhaps I'll get there today or tomorrow?

Got about eleven miles to go,
wonder what Ellen will say;
I should have been there days ago.
Will she believe my truck ran out of gas?
Probably not, she already thinks I'm an *ss.

Got about ten miles to go,
It's a little bit cold, wonder if it'll snow?
Won't that be a freak of nature; snowy weather
that couldn't last anyway, but it'd be a good story.
I could tell Ellen, but she'd say the story is phony.

Got about nine miles to go,
you might think I'd see some life so
this desert wouldn't be so empty.
No signs of life except cactus, brush, and road.
I'll never do this again; if I got hurt where to go?

Got about eight miles to go,
and here I'm having a pity party!
What am I going to have, other depressions?
Seems as though I've been on this road forever,
I need to have some kind of human encounter.

Got about seven miles to go,
that sign back there read gas twenty-five miles.
Hasn't been human life here ever since I began.
Gas station must not make much money.
Hope it's open or it'll be awhile 'til I see my Honey.

Got about six miles to go,
and I saw my first car today.
I was totally amazed; it left going away.
So I guess I'll walk the rest of the way,
maybe I'll be there if I walk faster tonight.

Got about four miles to go,
Should be able to get there by morning.
Funny why haven't I been hungry I wonder,
not even feeling the urge anymore either.
Very interesting, but it's probably the sweating.

Got about three miles to go,
and here comes a tow-truck hauling a car.
No, it's a pickup...wonder if it's mine?
It's not mine, front end is pushed in...bad time.
Got to keep on moving to town, it isn't far.

Still got about three miles to go,
and it's been real quiet probably early morning.
Going to push on into town; hope it's a town.
Can see light in the sky A ways further down.
I'm anxious to get all this over with, been annoying.

Got about two miles to go,
the sun is coming up behind me.
After all this walking I've been doing
it shouldn't take me very long arriving.
I'm not feeling tired, and that's interesting.

Got about one mile to go,
I can see the light just up ahead,
and maybe I can get a gas can filled
to take back to my truck. I'll be thrilled,
and maybe then I can go, go go...

Well I'm here at the service station,
and so isn't my pickup, the front is
pushed in, there is blood in my seat.
Nobody will talk to me! Attention!
I'm here! Can a man get a conversation?

Honestly I'm confused, people don't hear me,
they walk through me, doesn't anyone see.
I went to the toilet, couldn't open the door,
so I walked right in, never done that before.
I've no reflection in the mirror on the wall!

It's really hard to get it in my head,
I heard every word everyone has said.
Lord why did this happen to me, I'm not ready
to simply be someone's old memory,
and then I realized I'm dead, I'm dead, so Dead!

Will I ever see that beautiful bright light,
that everyone has said they have seen?
Is there a heaven: a God who loves me?
Hope an angel comes taking me in flight,
to my ancestors where I've hope to be.

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Submitted on October 09, 2013

5:44 min read

Quick analysis:

Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 5,408
Words 1,076
Stanzas 29
Stanza Lengths 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5

Lucian Tower

I began writing Lyrics, short stories, and poetry some 43-years-ago. When I was in high school, during the 60s, I met the great Robert Frost. He spoke to me about my real elementary attempts at writing and poetry. He took some time with me, after assembly hall and told me to not stop writing. Now, that I have been around the world as a USMarine, and have lived through 2-years of the Vietnam War, I still am writing. Now at 63-years-old, I am enjoying being on Poetry.com with you all. I was born 12/21/1948, in Worcester, MA. There I began trying to write lyrics at 5-years-old, on my Grandmother's piano -- this has been a life-time ambition/Hobby for me. I live now in Gallatin, TN, and I am disabled/retired from the vietnam war.This is how I move around and, hopefully, meet others of like mind/spirit. I am mostly American Indian and 4th Generation Irish in the USA. My poetry are moments, which I've seen, and lived during my life. I believe allpoetry are photos, or glimpses into moments of life. Styles have changed over the years, and it is in reading/listening to others' poems that give poets ideas and imaginations to build their own style. This is who I am, as a man, who simply loves the written arts/preforming arts. Keep on writing!Lucian Tower. more…

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