Wednesday, April 13, 2016

we are the travelers


We're all travelers, wondering these roads.
We all are driving through the traffic jams,
the corn fields,
the mountains. 
We're bound to end up on the floor of a rest-station bathroom at some point. 

We're all travelers, making our way through these roads. 
Sometimes slowly.
Other times zipping past reality.  

We all want to make a mark. 
Leave a legacy. 
Change the world.

I inhale the pollution, allowing despair and sadness to fill my lungs.
Cars flying by me with direction.

Yet I feel like I'm in a corn-maze.
Running around, having no idea where I'm going.
Lost. Tired. Knowing clouds are coming.

I'm I traveler, wondering the roads placed before me.
Sometimes I run. Other times I jog.
But not now.

Today I walk.
Inhaling what's before me.
Exhaling pollution.

We all travel these roads.
Will we walk together? 

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