poetry & things

Sometimes, traveling

When I am traveling, long

the days and sweat of trains, window games

play of strangers, lonely stray

and I with no escape, but my mind to fly away

will meditate, sink deep into my seat

to disappear, into other worlds

far from my destination

derailed from expectation

like the mad seeking of the sun

when only moons will come

awaiting a friend, a hand to hold

the lonesome of traveling alone

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