a human being is made up of so many things
no not organs, lungs, or a heart
but of buildings and towns and sidewalks
all of the small towns you've driven by
the small parking lots you've crossed
those intricate doorways you've passed through
they make you who you are
those wanderlust feelings are what makes you
they make up you as a being
imagine all the places you've been
they are now black and white
for the beauty is lost but not the soul
now imagine where you are going
colorful and vibrant
for the beauty is not yet to be seen
you are not your looks or even your personality
you are the art that you love, the places you have gone
you are an open mind of wonderful things
YOU ARE READING
the lonely club
Poetrysometimes i can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives i'm not living