Alone.
Tired.
This pack on top of my back,
It weighs me down.
Feet sore.
Mouth dry.
I watch the sunset over the horizon.
The mountains vast and bright.
Hungry.
Walking
Down the side of a street.
Freedom I’ve never known.
Found me,
Roaming wild,
When I looked to the world
For the knowledge unknown.
Poor.
Adventure.
Wanting to get to where I’m going,
But enjoying every step of the way.
Thumbs up.
Headed North.
Cars pass me by.
Whatever happened to trust?
Insane?
Thrill seeker?
Axe Murderer?
Rapist?
No.
Hitchhiker.
-Christine
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