A Feedbag of Truckstop Poetry

I pulled over for a feedbag
I thought of you
It wasn't bad
You had direction and drive
And you arrived at closing time to find
They wiped down the bar and they built you a bed
Laid your head to rest and left you try to true again

You may be proud then
As it was always wish for thought
I would imagine you off maybe
Maye I see you again
We could sit down and have a moment and talk about your suicide
And i would put away your death if you could put away the dope

And all our enemies
Well there's no time for you to know them
Any crooked mind disease but

Hopeless fools
They will be missing you

I pulled over for nostalgia
I thought of suffering the joke
No one delivered the punchline
No resolution is here

I couldn't sharpen the view
And it's still drawn to you
Waiting on the new
But then this story has no end
As we continue driving