Long Ride

Sitting on a highway, noting what is in the mind

As an evaluating world shoots by, he questions who am I?

As a reminiscence of fitting words and skills

Leaves a finishing touch not void of belie

Ruminant to his identity, delving deep beneath the "I"

Soaring on to higher grounds to view the people hasting by

It dawns; the hippies were right; we didn't globalize

To lose touch, the fault isn't mine

And it's a long ride to find yourself when you hide yourself

And it's a long night jumping through the hoops for your secular pride