I am not enjoying, my youth
It seems, I crave to age
I experience, not, nor know not of
The joys that come with my, youthful freedom
And yet, I think, there is one thing, to tell
To join me in mutual bond, with others of my years
A wanderlust, so born of youth, uncertainty, and, curiosity
Oh, how I would wander, but not, oddly enough, to see the world, not to take photos
For Facebook and likes
But because I need to keep moving
I don't care where I'm going
Just as long as it's new
And there's no one to drag me back home
I want a weekend of coffee, poetry with strangers, who know only my, work, not my name
I want a sojourn to Bohemia, to get lost among artists, how sublime, would be, a world apart from, this
Drunk, for a weekend, hyper, sleepless, as long as my pen fills a page
I have a need to wander
And I'll never grow fonder
Of this small, dying town of the grey
I'll write my work, and count the hours
Till I'm finally out of this place
Cos, my soul needs to wander
I don't need roads, no signs, I don't care where I'm going
If it's, a, change of scene, well then
There's never been, a more beautiful sight for my, eyes
Oh, the farther I wander, the more my heart grows fonder
Of a world that I've never, truly known
