500 miles

I wish I was only 500 miles . . . rather than 55 years . . . away from home.
Missing the train is one thing.  When that train don't run no more . . . is something else
Ain't that the truth. The train ain't running no more. I don't know when it stopped running. And I don't know who might hear me when I say that I'm lost.
All of the aimless wanderers who look for what they won't recognize; they will hear you. We are so many of us lost. We are most of us learning deafness also. A shout into the darkness...might evoke response.
We're all 500 miles away from home, the only difference being how long it takes each of us to travel that 500 miles.  Some take 50 years, some take 70 years, some take 90 years or longer.  It's not how far we have to travel, it's how long it takes us to travel that 500 miles.  That determines our life, nothing else.  The miles behind you mean nothing, the miles ahead of you mean everything, yet you will never know either。