The Walking Man

I am just the walking manComing or goingAnd cannot promise youThough I can, it’s uncertainFor there’re times in the seasonsThat I walk, coming to youAnd others, away from you Make your choiceTry your uncertain luckAnd then wait or goYou cannot trust the oaths we sworeFor to tell that which I am is difficultMaybe just one walking man or thingComing here or going there Just a walking manComing with dreams of something  and then stayOr away with the ghosts van of nothing          -those fruitless hopes of yesterday Myself, I do not what, who I am It’s like a rhetorical mystery And sometimes admit itThat I am just what, who I amThe walking man or thingComing or going