My mouth is dry
from all the hours of heat
My eyes are sore
from the lights on the street
I keep reaching for water
but it never seems to be enough
I am the joker at the table,
waiting for them to call my bluff
I breathe in
and smell stale cigarettes
I wake up and
I forgot where I laid my head
I swear to God
I never thought I'd be on this road
If I could've predicted this
I would've done what I was told
I am a wandering soul
I left all earthly possesions behind
Had enough of repetition
was time to make a brand new life
I feel I've forgotten something
perhaps a memento
Maybe I don't want to remember
It doesn't stop me from running though
I'm in a desert
Although all the world is my stage
I can be anyone I want to be
I'll keep walking til I'm free of my cage
I would say they call me wanderer
but truth is no one knows who I am
I'm a passerby, a hitchhiker
An insignificant who-gives-a-damn
Time is my enemy
nothing will quench this thirst
Too late to turn back now
Not sure which life is worse
Caroline Guedes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wanderer-17/
