Reaping And Sowing Poem by Smoky Hoss

We're forever rolling through the dark,
always on the search
for some magical Park.
We look, we cry...
and find, only tears in our eyes.
Where are the streets paved in gold,
where's a hand of love held out
to hold?
No angels are heard singing us home,
as out here we stand, the
lonely, and alone.
It's true we don't need to see the whole show
thrown up in lights,
but God, how about a few less
dark and cold nights.
Those in high places who make the rules
aren't going to help me or you;
only words given from the heart
ever ring true.
So many deals going down
none of us will never understand,
perhaps we just aren't meant to be
included in the big-plan;
Things happening all around
that don't have much to do with us,
the best we can do is simply
hope and trust.
Who can we call that would care,
who could give so much
and with us freely share?
The future will always be uncertain,
no one can say where it's going.
We are all just wanderers out here,
reaping and sowing...