
Impulse.
Impulsive. On the go. Moving. Wind in my hair-on my face-arms-mixing with my breath. Needing to go-go-just go. Everyday seems boring but leaving-its close-so close-I can taste it. I can feel the wind-see the road-hear the freedom that I want-need-so badly. But its always out of reach-can't-go-go-wanting. Impulsive. On the go. Moving.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world