don’t have plans to runaway, though it might be best
to see sights i haven’t laid eyes on
going out to see familiar faces, doesn’t put me at ease
not like it did before all of this
keeping my hands busy only bores me, they feel better idle
or kept at my side in surrender
the creative spark i once had ignited, has fizzled out
smouldered by unkindness
seeing social feeds, of new life and continued love
only makes me miss more
the future doesn’t cast down lights, but covers roads with nightfall
as i graduate towards the next
there are no second chances, to retrieve the past
it slips away to easily
like a novel written thoroughly, with the end chapters missing
all for naught it seems
the words and the memories written, now just as worthless to you
as the time spent creating
far off lands look comfortable, if only as a means of retreat
but i’ve never been known to leave