My only regret is to let myself live this long when there is no end or a beginning. 

Lying to myself tricking myself to find the final chapter of life to try to make it all worth while.

Nothing but a cliff hanger is the end. 

Where the soul of being is a manufactured by-product on our comprehensiveness to this simple Earth.

There is much more to this and it's nothing.

The poor lonely bum holds no grudge to the rich happy businessman on the busy streets of New York as their fates are already made the same. 

We ride this road of life with it's twists and turns making it seem worthwhile and necessary.

Once the road ends, the fancy car you road in on will disappear; vanish with everything else.

Waiting for the next fool to forge a lie and perhaps a story to himself and continue this road trip.