From Nowhere...
From Everywhere...
Dirty dreadlocks
Scraped moccasins
Torn backpack
Scuffed map poking out (why do they need a map? they'll never get to where they're going)
A shower is beckoning to them, like a siren to a filthy sailor, tempting, yet out of reach
Phone in hand, but who are they texting, everyone back at home has already forgotten about
them or given up
A look of eternal loss across their expression
"Life's an adventure," they think but it's not what they feel
They just want to go
Home