Forget The End Goal

A poem about the journey

We are always looking for somewhere to go, A direction to saunter — why? I don’t know. We follow these signposts, but they lead us astray, We’ll venture each roadside, tread along the pathway.

We’re meant to have a meaning, a reason to stride, A destination to reach that’s been tested and tried. We can’t go out for the sake of just wandering around, We’ll be shunned if we travel without a purpose thus found.

But I can’t really say that I think that’s alright, When I love a good roam of the streets late a night. No rhyme nor a reason, just the moon overhead, Looping around and then collapse back in bed.

Why must we head out with a place set in mind? Let’s just ramble and discover what’s out there to find. Keep walking and walking until we reach the Earth’s ridge. Technically, wherever we step is towards that of a fridge.