Moving

I came to a new place

That looked like one I have visited before.

There was no fun in the movement

As I felt travel sick on the bus

And when I got to my desination

It was the same as the last

I dredged my soul to find excitement

In the concrete blocks and the crowds


But no excitement came and none could I drum up

So I had to keep on moving or fester in the old place


I knew I was tired of travel

I knew the desination by heart

And even when I got there I found I had been right

There was no point in arriving or

Leaving the old place

And emptying my wallet

To fill the empty place

That was only a space in my head



(before 2013)