How is it that
onwards I march
wandering from place to place
and passing you by
reaching towards you, reaching for you
disappointment is all that meets the eye;
Riches do not please me
inside, I yearn for more
concerned, I may never attain it
kindly, gently
yearning for more;
Gifts, pleasures and
ideas, looking searching for more
love, passion and holding out hope
looking searching and waiting for an
exit, one which may lead to somewhere
safe, somewhere or someone or some
place, where there is only you, me and
infinite time, a place where hurt will
end, a place for lovers and friends.