Set to RoamA Poem by Tate MorganThere are some men, who can't sit still wandering souls who don't fit in You'll find they trek the globe at will breaking the hearts, of next of kinGreat Grandpa Ben Morgan. There are some men, who can't sit still wandering souls who don't fit in You'll find they trek the globe at will breaking the hearts of next of kin
They range the field to ford each flood wander mountains and sail the seas Theirs is the curse of Gypsy Blood so averse to a life of ease
Many I knew were brave and true as their deeds and manners attest Don't let them get attached to you as they never know how to rest
They find no solace in the old forever searching for the new Theirs is a life both tough and bold although of friends they share but few
They blindly search the noon day sun for a future that's now their past Then think of all they could have done when forced to face the truth at last
There was a time when this was me desire of rest yet never done A drifting soul upon life's sea of adventures I loved each one
We knew no peace, nor settled mind having nowhere that we called home Never to know what we might find each of our soul's was set to roam
© 2019 Tate MorganAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTate MorganMarion , OHAboutAvailable from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..Writing
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