Journey Of The Boxcar Soul Poem by L.D. Lawton

In the realm of the road, a wanderer's plight,
A boxcar hobo, drifting through the night.
From city to city, his heart yearns to roam,
On steel tracks he rides, never having a home.

His spirit untamed, like the wind's gentle sigh,
Seeking solace in each new city passing by.
A troubadour of tales, both tragic and grand,
He carries his dreams in a weathered old hand.

Through valleys and mountains, he rides with the stars,
Underneath moonlit skies, he strums his guitar.
In the hush of the darkness, a lonesome refrain,
Echoes of longing, escaping the train.

City lights beckon, like beacons of hope,
He steps off the train, on a new path to cope.
A stranger amidst the bustling city streets,
Embracing the unknown, where destiny meets.

He wanders through alleys, where stories unfold,
Encounters with strangers, both timid and bold.
From the weary derelicts to souls filled with grace,
Each life intertwining, a fleeting embrace.

With each dawn's arrival, he's off to the next,
Leaving footprints behind, an elusive prospect.
For the boxcar hobo, the journey's his muse,
The road his companion, no time to refuse.

Through hardships and triumphs, his spirit remains,
A free-spirited soul, unaffected by chains.
With eyes full of wonder and heart full of fire,
He embraces the world as his only desire.

So here's to the boxcar hobo, forever in flight,
May his wanderlust guide him, both day and night.
For in his restless soul, we find our own dreams,
In the drifting city lights, hope eternally gleams.