The woes of the wanderer are many and few After all we get life with a view Over mountains, through muck Under water, over clouds our adventures are countless but sometimes we join the crowds For connection or Kindness Longing or Lust it is rare times that we get So recharging is a must The highs and hellos Smiles and hugs are bittersweet and feel like drugs For awhile we float, just like the rest a beautiful memory created but the world nags like a pest Movement begins a slow roll at first and it doesn't come alone. Loss to be nursed as new friends ask for your phone New place, old pain, same ache, new take, and it all begins again.
