If I could hide well enough,
Blend in with the blurred sea of unknown faces,
I would leave this place,
So full of memories,
Saturated with reminders,
I would find a way out,
To find a nowhere of my own,
And hide alone,
In a place without past,
I would build a heart to withstand the ages.
But my motionless body stands out,
As all around rush and hurry,
I live in solitude,
Feet planted firm, eyes down,
Streams of haste surround me,
But their flow does not stir my stationary presence,
So in a scene of panic, I am calm,
I am noticed,
I am forced to remain by my own fear to stay,
And my perfect nowhere,
Doesn't seem to be anywhere,
And my history is everywhere,
Wherever I search,
All I find is wall after wall,
As I try to escape my mind.
My frantic dance of repeating obstruction,
Is never seen by those around,
Because, of course, they don't really look,
They see a boy staring at his feet,
But if one person would stop and join me,
They'd realise,
I'm not staring at my feet,
I'm staring into my own eyes,
In the rain-soaked pavement,
And if they looked into them too,
They would see that I am moving,
Not standing still,
They'd see how long I tried,
And how long I failed,
And how many times I tripped up,
But still I haven't quite found,
A nowhere of my own.
