PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You always wanted to get away,  but one night on the run and you’re already feeling the chill.

Winter always separates the men from the boys and it’s winter all year in this town.

Still, we’re blood brothers ,  and that means real mates right?

And yeah, as appealing as it seems, I can’t pretend you didn’t knock, so I guess a little tea and a bed  isn’t too much trouble now is it?

It's not like you’re some stranger, I mean, we were meant to shoot down the stars together.

Seems funny now, laughable, when the closest I get to stars is at the bottom of a gin bottle.

So I will listen again, listen to you drill my head and fill it with grandeur tales of this and that.

Four months in Nigeria and all that conservation work in South America has given you a new perspective.

You’ve seen it man, you’ve touched it.

All those sacrifices you made to sleep under an open sky don’t figure in the equation now, now your purpose is far greater.

And I’ll keep on listening while you tell me all the things I could be doing and ‘don’t I ever get sick of this place, don’t I ever wish there was something more' and how easy it is to get up and go.

And I’ll nod my head again and say ‘yeah’ all the while wondering what it is, what it is about this place that’s got you on the run again after one night.

Maybe the fact you turned your back on everything and everyone you knew because greatness was up high on your list.

And now nobody gives a damn anymore about your accomplishments

because all those sacrifices weren’t entirely altruistic were they?

What else did you get from it, to go with the new found reason

for your existence?   An easy route out of here?

A free ticket away from your mistakes and all the unforgiving glances should you  of stuck around?

Family ties and friendship never were your priority, your ideals don’t allow for such  sentiment, and love, well that’s just an obstacle no less passable than a road block  with the right words and a visa card.

I’ll wonder too about the future, whether you’ll still be globe trotting when you’re fifty, whether you’ll ever think about all those missed opportunities and whether you’ll ever realise that your purpose wasn’t off saving some wild animals and their habitat from extinction and that maybe  it was right here all along.

I’ll think about what you see, what you see when you look in my eyes and whether it’s the same thing I see when I look in yours.

And for as long as you keep running, you’ll know I’ll keep waiting

And that I’m the only one who will.