On The Move

Wandered through the streets of fame,
This place where all there is are names.
I do not and have no will to belong.
Right at that moment began a song.
Sweet melody as it tolled.
An earworm you could not control.

And I know you’re waiting for the sting.
Truth is there is no such thing.

I left that place to which I was not suited.
Took a stroll without an aim.
Walked for hours winding left and right,
Until finally I reached a kite.
At one end stood a boy smiling with all the joy.
It was infectious I must admit, so I watched for a bit.

Wind pulled the kite to and fro.
Was soothing to see it though.
But not long after the boy was done.
Packed his things and scampered on.
I did much the same as he, returning to my journey.
And by the time I reached the finish, the sun had greatly diminished.

Legs stiff and aching some.
Not a complaint just an observation.
Why I felt compelled to climb into my bath.
To soak in hopes of easing their wrath.
During such time I did conclude;
Life is better when you’re on the move.