The Wanderer

I watch her as she passes by.

The Wanderer, she seems to fly

On clouds of freedom and simple grace.

A scarf wrapped tight around her face.

The snow lands on her long-worn cloak

Drifting 'bout her form like smoke.

Step by step she moves down the street.

This strong figure no man can defeat.

I wonder; why she is there all alone.

Why is she out? Should she not be home?

She turns her face towards my watching eye.

I see it is frozen by tears she has cried.

She longs for freedom, but is locked up tight.

Her captors don't think of wrong or of right.

They only do what is best for them.

Saying it will benefit her in the end.

I notice her tears, and the warmth that she lacks.

I wonder; is it the world that has made her heart black?

I wonder if she is who I am inside

Kept under wrap by tears I won't cry.

I wonder how I can set her free.

This wandering stranger I have inside me.

The one thing she wants is to travel the world.

But I have to get her through high school first.

It's torture to both this wanderer and I

Sitting through classes, watching spirits die.

We see new faces, but they just walk past.

Erasing emotion with drugs, sports or class.

I wonder; do I really see her there?

Is she something I can touch, or simply thin air?

Did I make up the figure that wanders alone,

That has no face, that has no home?

Is what I want, but never can be?

Or is she what I want the world to see?

She looks so cold there on the road.

Should I invite her in, help lighten the load?

But dreams put on hold I have to forget.

I can not embrace this part of me yet.