~•~
The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form
Adorned with patches of places you've been
Is nothing on my khaki coat I got
From a roadside when I was sixteen
My boots are from airports
My backpack's from friends
I'm not a man of substance, and so I'll pretend
To be a wanderer, wondering
Leaving ascetic belongings in hostels and restaurant bins
~•~
The roads are my home, horizon's my target
If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it
Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it
Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on
It's been sixty weeks since I saw Vienna
A bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face
I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready
And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead
~•~
The distance is futile
Come on, don't be hasty
You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones
I'll be gone then, for when you must be alone
~•~
YOU ARE READING
your city gave me asthma
Poetrylyrics for YCGMA -•- made so people can interpret and discuss! -•- support wilbur everywhere! Youtube- Wilbur Soot Wilbur Music Twitch- https://twitch.tv/wilbursoot Twitter- @WilburSoot Insta- @wilbursoot
