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Lost Sep 11
I always feel like a compass spinning
Directionless, I can hardly see
The paths I could take
To the places I need to be
But I trudge on, aimlessly
“My compass spins, the wilderness remains” - Bright Eyes
Amanda Nov 2018
Wandering this lonely terrain
Trying to escape the nightmare I live
I yearn to fly away from pain
The ghostly love you give

Trust has become a scarcity
In our darkest hour
Someone wise once told me
Solitude will grant you power

I have no one, no belongings, no home
Reduced to a vagrant without your embrace
Feet and emotions fated to roam
Until they find their purpose and place
I feel so directionless by myself
Derrek Faraday Oct 2018
New York drowns in the California-made blue
The child of the voodoo kisses the sky
Her indigo ligaments are laid bare
While she falls, chasing smoking rabbits

She is small yet she soars
With her proportions falling on deaf heads
She remembers the knights of the dawn
Tangled in her gallivanting hair

Without knowing her doors
She noses her way through her window
The modest parachute travels
With the nomadic East

She recognizes heaven by taste
Knowing that she believes less and less
Seeing all without need for the travel
Ignoring the scrutiny of a gavel

Leaving in the morning
Not stopping until the fifth night
Learning for forty fortnights
Stopping to rest every second year

What a bright-eyed soul!
A sparkling visage
Adorning all her wanders
The world is at her command
I would rather
be a
wanderer
a belongerer
to no body
to no country
a loose end


than to bob
eagerly
at every tug
of the yarn's
end
whose
wound-up
mass
amasses me
a wriggled up
ball of
wriggles


I would rather
be alone
than
scooped up
in a basket
with others
of my
supposed
ilk
and held in
by the
over-under
wicker
edges
domed up
for containment


ominous
clicks and
scrapes
of my
destiny
clattering
and chattering
above


fraying
frizzled
frazzled bits
smoothing out
as my length
is tugged
up and up
like a long
slurpy
noodle


I would rather
be loose
and scrappy
and stumpy
and ragged
the one that
nobody loves
the discarded
refuse of a
more discerning
eye


than be made
surreptitiously
into somebody
else's
jumper




© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
Sometimes it's better to be alone than to be in bad company. Sometimes it's better to be independent than to be dependent on the wrong thing.
Phoenix Apr 2017
A little girl with hopes and dreams
An artistic mother whose smile beams
A burly father who protects the team
Family is as it seems

A little girl that is confused
A fighting mother who is always bruised
A father that now grabs the *****
Family is far from smooth

A young girl that can’t understand
A tired mother who sits on her hands
An angry father who only demands
Family crumbles like sand

A teenage girl with a broken heart
A single mother falling apart
A father lying asleep in a park
Family is far from the start

A teenage girl who sleeps around
A mother buried in the ground
A father who is chained and bound
Family is not profound

A young adult with pain on her mind
A mother who is still resigned
A father who was left behind
Family is redefined
I hope my life doesn't hit stanza five....I'm quite worried about mt mom right now
Dawn Treader Dec 2016
A man in a tailored suit
A man eating rotten fruit
One divorced three wives
Two contrasting lives

One is a lawyer
The other a beggar
I’m sure you think of the two of them,
One is a hundred times better

He’s in fine garments
The other’s worn and tattered
One’s dreams came true
The other one’s shattered

But none of that matters—why?
How ‘bout you ask us, the maggot and the fly
Because in the end —and we say this without shame
A vagrant and a lawyer in death both taste the same
Death is the great equalizer.
Charlie Hazels Nov 2016
The greyness will not go
From my mind, from the world
A dome of haze surrounds this troubled town
Dense, thick, ****** into the ground and out to the sky
From my soul, from the world
I'm not so far from sitting with the wild eyed vagrant
Watching all hope walk away
From my heart, from the world
A cruel twist of fate this is- when it began
Troubles came from a solution
From my pocket, from the world
Thanks to inefficiency, from the privileged
I have no food coming
From my hand, from the world
Dreams of warmth and meagre luxuries
Seem so distant, so impossible
From my head, from the world
If I can't survive this month on air
I shall go from my home
To the street, to the world.
I live in a desert
My Dear.
With a loopy-eyed cat who bites
and a roommate who might as well.
All of my clothes are ripped and stained
and I don't know where I'll be working tomorrow.

The other vagrants and I
We can't afford to stay,
but we can't afford the gas to leave,
either.
The summers are too hot--
the winters are too cold--
and the days and the nights are too dangerous.

But we're here
and we're young.
And someone has to feed the cat.
cat, youth, young, dangerous, vagrant, travel, bohemian, mystery
Mystifying Chaos Dec 2015
She is just going.. going places.
She is leaving without any traces.
She is aimlessly travelling in search for something.
Like a vagabond, she is just wandering.
Try not to stop her, because she is actually falling.
Falling in love.
Mystifying Chaos Nov 2015
He wasn't a loner.
He was just a wanderer in search for a place where he could find peace.
His imagination was too vivid and wild. His mind was like a sphinx, impossible to decode.
His thoughts were a tangled mess of knots.
He was a mystery.
He was never able to seek peace but he found something intriguing. He met her.
Just like him - Wandering like a gypsy, with chaos occupying her mind.
She was like the missing piece from his jigsaw puzzle of a life.
Together they dreamt about all the magical infinities they longed for all their lives.
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