“Wanderlust.”

She drooled over the word,
With shiny, wide eyes,
She repeated it like it was her highway to an escape.
She dreamed of paradise.

In the middle of conversations,
She would tell us where she would go.
Because all the things around us,
Were mundane, boring and old.

She said there was no excitement,
No colour in her life.
And with her new-found vocabulary,
She would set the colour balance right.

She would visit the Amazon,
And prove she was one too.
She would stop by Paris,
And sip coffee under the sky blue.

So as soon as we graduated,
Free to choose our own dreams.
She packed her suitcase and
Was never again to be seen.

I imagine she would have chanted,
‘Wanderlust’ in prayer.
As she boarded the
Automobile that would take her.

To the place she always wanted to go,
I wonder if she ever found it.
This traveller’s biggest flaw was
She couldn’t bare the sound of silence.

Me? I live a normal life,
But I do find paradise.
The beauty is in the smallest of things,
A look or two would suffice.

For the idealist that trotted the globe,
Only found Elysium.

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