The Dude’s Trip Home

Somethings never change

But my mind rigorously rearranges the stages of my existence

Though it may seem strange it reflects my range and is shows me my exchange

I keep moving and some friends and family become hinders of the flight

I become smokin’ mirrors to their eyesight, below the radar

I mentally travel fast so they may say I’m bizarre, but I guess their minds don’t travel that far

I give no fucks about ignorance

I love to know

I gotta sit and let material digest in my mind, that’s how I grow

Move to no one else’s beat

I got music in my head all day, I’ll move my own fuckin’ feet

Maybe away from this place I call home

What’s the meaning of the word when you go there and feel alone

Maybe I’ve outgrown the place I use to run to

Maybe my real home wants me to come to that realization and come through

What a trip

Yours Truly,

The Dude


© 2019 Maranate

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