At thirteen
he didn't like birthdays
he was told to celebrate.
He wanted something
with more freedom.
And one day,
the road promised it.
So he ran, wandering.
At some point,
he thought he had seen it,
in glimpses,
in busy streets,
and in city lights.
In a coffee shop,
or in a girl's face.
But he didn't stop running.
He wanted something
that would last forever.
And couldn't find it.
So he continued running.
And running.
And running.
Until his wandering
became forever.
