I can be gone for endless days
Without a trace or breath of where I'd be
I walk on crossroads and open seas
When I'm gone, don't look for me
I have a map hidden in my head
Onward is what it would say
But places I've been are ever-changing
Maybe it's wrong if I chose to stay
I'm a wanderer, a lover of freedom
And an image of my path
My decisions are engraved upon my flesh
But never on a rough draft
Call me selfish, but I'd rather leave
You here with all the places
I've seen and faces I've read
Finally, I'm lost with no traces
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...