En Voyage

Well she’s looking for something real

She always has been

And it’s like every time she’s close

Every time she can hear the faint cries

Of a distant freedom

Every time she can smell the fresh fumes

Of a dreamlike evening

Every time she can see the mild glows

Of a never-setting sun

She’s pushed back

Onto a mattress

Of social expectation

Of culture

Of religion

Of restriction

Meshed, weaved and netted together.

Well she’s looking for something real

She’s only looking for it

But then again

She always has been.


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