Stop Looking At This Title And Read The Poem Already

In this world,
Where contradictions are our daily routines,
And there are no more paths,
Just one giant parking lot,
Our silent cowboy sits,
Fighting the blood crazed injuns,
That his mind creates,
Jumping at shadows,
In Main Street ally ways,
Riding his trusty steed off into the sunset,
Leaving a sobbing lover behind,
Choosing freedom instead,
But he is kind enough to pick up a lonely hitchhiker,
Finding his company to be much more dignified,
In an Acid Trip kind of way,
Leave it to him to forget his wallet,
On her dining room table,
Along with dreams he never had,
Of a white picket fence,
In a boring suburb,
With two kids and a dog.