We Are Travelers, a poem written by Andrea Myinga at Spillwords.com
Joe Gardner

We Are Travelers

We Are Travelers

written by: Andrea Myinga


At a time, being young, crowns blanked,
Dreaming, but not of becoming someone,
Simply eyeing the hands of the caregivers nigh,
Unknowingly moving but moving, growing
Such traveling softly and sound to a destine.

Now youths, aggressively self-seeking,
Tasting the taste of every near to,
Tasteless and bitterness is only well offered.
Hold fast on it? No, preferably fast-moving,
Searching that neighbor tenting next door.

Sad enough the travel is long, wearisome. We sleep,
Amidst I dream, dreaming about the past daydream.
Wake up dim! The night is dark, dark on the sight
Yet twinkles brightened the sky above,
We shall travel to there. A dream flashing.

They used to tell in their tales about the place
That the sky is the best gate to pass through.
Theirs, those called forebear from their deeds,
Have passed through to make an extra life.

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