Wanderer
By funky_seagull
- 564 reads
The wanderer
I wish I knew what to say on this day.
My speech has left me and my mind is blank.
I sit here and watch the words spin around the room.
Animated faces, wild frantic gestures, but I am alone.
quietly I watch and listen, trying to understand.
I have travelled far to this strange land.
Every now and then someone looks at me.
I smile back trying to be friendly.
Sometimes it feels like the greatest of human needs.
this need for conversation, like a raincloud drooping I sit.
Yet this peoples language I do not speak.
And at that moment I feel homesick and bleak.
Friends long gone, their music I miss.
Firelit vigils of whiskey and laughter and bliss.
I long for their bright smiling wild eyed faces
the familiar rhythm of their voices and of places.
But I cannot dwell on this matter for long
cause the great old road beckons me on.
So I finish my drink and like a silent shadow, am gone.
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