Lonesome Cities

A beautiful girl woke up in my arms one morning not too long ago. She peered over to my bookshelf and read aloud one of the book's titles that was sitting on the middle shelf. She didn't know it but it was one of the most important books on my bookshelf. She said in a curious voice, "Lonesome Cities". I sighed a deep breath and whispered, "yeah". I proceeded to look into the ceiling remembering all those emotions that came with those words. The book of poems by Rod Mckuen was given to me by my wizened, old, navy grandfather. He had me read it when I was young and I could only understand a part of what the message was. He gave it to me again this last April and told me to read it with open eyes. I understand now. I'm on a journey of self discovery but now my journey needs to start taking a different path. I need to find that 'city' that has enough room for me and feels like home so I never have to be lonely again. I've gotten tired of traveling through these cities only to be there for one night and then moving on. I've got my stories. I've had my fun. Lets try living somewhere now. Here is the last page of the book.

There's a few more lonesome cities
that I'd like to see
while the wine of wandering
is still inside of me.

There's a few more pretty women
that I'd like to know,
a bridge or two I'd like to cross,
a few more oats to sow.

Maybe when I've done it all,
seen all there is to see,
I'll find out I still cannot
run away from me.

But as long as trains keep running'
a restless man I'll be,
and there're a few more lonesome cities
that I've yet to see.