Gypsy Pursuits
A bit of it resides in all of us,
As constant movement won't stall or stand still.
Giving its nature to wander endlessly,
Marching to a drummer and traveling will.
While motion is steady and stubborn,
One may wonder as to the sacrifice.
Since little time can be seen to lay roots down,
Maybe there's been found, a mobile paradise?
Yet no matter the time or the distance,
These journeys continue, with no end in sight.
Perpetual motion being the sole calling card,
Seeking to satisfy a vagabond appetite.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
