the journey
things fall apart
but that is only the start
of a journey that may last days
or years
full of things,
only you can hear
you travel down a path made of gravel
encrusting you with scars
but no one knows,
that you have now seen Mars
and touched every star in-between
leaving no planet unseen
on your big excursion
in which you found yourself
becoming a new version
of someone who resembled you
just as not nearly as blue
This poem is about:
Me