Though I am young I’ve walked many roads
Spanning many towns, regions and countries,
But I’ve never found a place to rest
The feet which never cease their weary tread,

Each place I see is broken,
The glass through which I see the world, cracked,
Dusty, taken from its hidden box,
I like to think that there is something new to find,
But all I see are stories from the past
Rehached, spat out for yet another age,

So each new place, each new face,
Is just a mirror of where I’ve been before,
But still I search for another path,
Another way of seeing things,
Like in all the stories that I read,
Of prince charming slaying an evil beast,
Hero’s that have no compare,
And evil, clear for our eyes to see,
Not this grey void, sucking all emotions,
All visions of new life, blurring the lines
We’re taught to follow