We spend our lives in a meddiling drift,
Noticing few,
Getting noticed by fewer.
When all we desire is to be seen,
Be seen.

She wanders alone,
looking for love.

He leaves home,
abandoning love.

They went back,
Into nothing good.

And they all found what they were looking for.
But, not what they desired.

See, the world tainted their views,
Dampened their dreams.
Set up road blocks, and detours.
Diverted them off course.

I've seen them, wandering.
Looking for the next hit.
I ask myself, "Am I one of them?
Without a purpose?"
I can never tell.

I desire something,
Something few understand.
This thing understands me.
But, where is this thing?
Is it in the coffee shop?
Was it there when I bought my gun?
Was it there when I cried out?
Will it be on the other side?

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