By Judson Mitcham
Those back roads traveled me all my life.
Time spent me in idleness, wasted me.
Small towns passed through me, the old
melodies put me on and played me,
and stars used me to reckon with.
Maybe the truth tried to find me out.
A little history learned me. Right away,
it forgot. An odd dream, here and there,
understood me. The same old stories
told me over and over, and my soul
tried to save me, until
the day night walked off into me, alone,
when a promise broke me.
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