Each day is the same as the last.
I am always gone, always away from
Where I began. My home, my place of rest...
I spend so much time away from there,
But when I do finally return, I am out again.
Do I truly want to spend time there...
Or am I just searching for escape?
You would think after being away from home
Day in and day out, I would enjoy being there
When I can finally rest, but instead,
I am gone again, first chance that comes to me.
I cannot make sense of my actions.
I cannot make sense of my thoughts.
In my mind I think, "I am finally home again."
But my body...my heart...wishes to roam,
Wishes to run,
Wishes for adventure.
As for the soul well the soul is indifferent.
So long as it is able to relax, it is content.
Everyday is like the next.
Whether it is for work or for play, I will probably
Never stay home long enough to satisfy myself completely.
Then again, as I am out there in the world,
I feel absolutely fulfilled.


 
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