Journey

                                   

 

The old man at the dock; you know

The one with the limp. He told me about

A journey he had taken when he was young.

About

 

The things he found.

The people he helped.

The stories he was told.

 

and it inspired me to take a journey of my own.

 

So taking up my belongings

I placed them in an old rucksack

And bade farwell to my loved ones,

But

 

I Found nothing.

I saw no one to help.

I was told no stories.

 

for these had all been taken by journeyers before.

 

Even so, I told the boy at the market,

The one with that shock of blonde hair;

I told him of the journey I had taken.

Of

 

The things I had found.

The people I had helped.

The stories I had been told.

 

for if the only land left untrod

was my imagination, I was going

to make that journey worthwhile.