Wanderer
Why do I go to the trouble to write
Perfectionistic poetry at night
When people who are paired-off are asleep
To navigate these waters dark and deep
Riding this tide and drifting like these clouds
Which float objectively above the crowds
Of those who are more fortunate than me?
With no one to be with no place to be
I am a solitary wanderer
Going places where no one ever goes
Some of which are some of which never were
And where I might end up nobody knows
I like it this way so I leave the day
To walk in darkness and leave you the light
I find poetry in the dark you see
I travel light in the dark you might say
Those who have nothing are those who are free
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMVI
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