Wilderness

Running away Like Moses to the wilderness For years at a time doing nothing at all Not knowing what we do, we dare to repress Our Peter Pan fantasies and our vagabond dress Screaming to no one, the nomads we are Shan’t ever grow up, we’re children Now and forever, but we get old regardless In the wilderness of a long lost continent The content of our ignorance Binding us well like we’re under a spell Of youth in the outside and nothing left inside We race and we age and shrivel up and die The wilderness the world beyond the window Backseat of the car, mosquitoes dead upon the screen Looking out and dreaming that the other side is green But our parents forbade us and so we continued To break their laws and form a land of our own With no laws at all and never understanding To plan it all and think about objects and owning We fight it out and kill our own Children with guns in the wilderness _ I don't normally like to explain poems, however, this is a bit of an odd one. When I was really young my mother used to read to me. I loved Peter Pan and I often thought how amazing it would be to be in Never Never Land. To almost rule myself and be a Lost Boy. However, recently I got to thinking that it wouldn't have been so great, it would have turned into an almost Lord of the Flies existence. So that's what I tried to really show.