alright i did it <br />upon your wishes <br />i went to San Isidro <br />i hate the place <br />there are no trees <br /> <br />Papa died <br />even in that last moment <br />he smiled for me <br />i am his guy <br />i followed him <br />his every wish <br /> <br />not mine of course <br />i love San Francisco <br />my friend all live there <br />they made themselves <br />to their own images <br />nothing <br />is a mimicry <br /> <br />alright i need not <br />regret it <br />i have life too <br />i can buy my own bed <br />and sleep <br />the rest of the day <br />feeling <br />so invigorated <br />not a bigot <br />or an <br />ergot <br /> <br />the years are flashes of <br />lighting <br />one gets attuned to the heavy rain <br />and those who are dead <br />have become mere numbers <br />you shift channels and <br />choose <br />to travel <br /> <br />alright i am now in San Francisco <br />the gate is not <br />golden <br />it is only in the mind <br /> <br />i never calculated that it is <br />even colder <br />than the cold that i imagine <br /> <br />my friends are no longer my friends <br />time spent for waiting has become <br />an anger <br /> <br />alright i walk alone <br />but know what? i have no fear <br />i love being alone now <br />i am enjoying sunset <br /> <br />red orange, flaming yet <br />mellow to my eyes <br />the sun is inside my heart <br />and it is burning<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-traveler-15/
