Wilderness
Running away
Like Moses to the wilderness
For years at a time doing nothing at all
Not knowing what we do, we dare to repress
Our Peter Pan fantasies and our vagabond dress
Screaming to no one, the nomads we are
Shan’t ever grow up, we’re children
Now and forever, but we get old regardless
In the wilderness of a long lost continent
The content of our ignorance
Binding us well like we’re under a spell
Of youth in the outside and nothing left inside
We race and we age and shrivel up and die
The wilderness the world beyond the window
Backseat of the car, mosquitoes dead upon the screen
Looking out and dreaming that the other side is green
But our parents forbade us and so we continued
To break their laws and form a land of our own
With no laws at all and never understanding
To plan it all and think about objects and owning
We fight it out and kill our own
Children with guns in the wilderness
_
I don't normally like to explain poems, however, this is a bit of an odd one.
When I was really young my mother used to read to me. I loved Peter Pan and I often
thought how amazing it would be to be in Never Never Land. To almost rule myself and be a
Lost Boy. However, recently I got to thinking that it wouldn't have been so great, it
would have turned into an almost Lord of the Flies existence. So that's what I tried to
really show.
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