What we want to believe

Are like the smoke rings

We sit and watch someone do

Thinking somehow they are magical

When really, they are not.

There is a vagabond in me

A clumsy one

That stayed too long in one place

Now people expect me here

When the only thing in the world I want

Is to be gone.

 

There is a wild woman in me

That cares not about being tamed

That doesn’t want to be lied to anymore

Since discernment isn’t strong in me

I’d rather never take a chance

Then make a fool of myself again.

 

There is a child in me

That craves stability

That wants

Just one person

I know will never walk away from her.

Since I can never give her that

I try to be that

But, you know,

I’m a vagabond.

 

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