It doesn’t seem to make much sense.
My body feels slow.
Creeping through me comes the fear.
My body cannot grow.
I’m high and low and so confused,
Old and young and bored.
I want to stay, I want to go,
The storm, the storm, the storm.
Who could know? Who can see?
When lost inside a storm?
With no mack, no knapsack pack,
No refuge from unknown.
Shall I do what I’m supposed to?
Find somewhere safe and warm?
Or run and scream and lose myself,
In the never ending storm.
Should happiness be knowing,
What and where is home?
And when it’s found to stay inside,
Forever in the warm?
Or should I seek adventure?
In snow, sleet and storm.
Set off into the darkness,
Never to return.
Featured image: ‘When There’s A Storm’, Copyright KMN.