The Great Western Soul

Never knew why it was called
the Great Western Highway.
Just a long, lonely road.
For walkers like me, anyway.
It's been too long
since I've seen her.
Tears in her eyes,
words lost between us.
I didn't mean for this to collapse
Or lose her.
But I'll always remember
what she said.

It made sense then.
And it makes sense now,
on the road, the Great Western.
Cars and Trucks,
swiftly passing me by
There I go, a broken man.
Bag hanging
by one strap
my head bowed.
As the rain surrounds
me.
Still walking on
Western ways,
accompany western winds.
Great pains,
to lone souls.
As the highway it claims
Lone souls with forgotten homes

Sinking into my clothes,
becoming me.
My thoughts, they fade
even this pain fades.
I still hear my woman..
Her memory will never fade..
I've walked on for sixteen hours
through wind, rain and heat.
My skin, shivering
with the sullen winds..
Walking on,
the rain sways with wind
Roaring traffic,
casting tides of rain-water
I don't bother to avoid

Cracking thunder and peak hour traffic
ringing out in the night.
I don't deserve to go home,
as if home existed anymore..
Wandering on
aimlessly.
Without a care for past
or the here and now.
Every part of my being
begs for her touch
Later in the evening
Stretched out on a bus shelter chair
With a bottle of Jack.
Drinking not to the past
but to the future
To wherever I may go.