Wanderlust Traveller

• Sarah Jarvis, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2015

Walking through my small town, moonlight guiding my footsteps, yet I stare at the ground.
I pass the cows grazing in the meadow, as I walk from the gravel to the boundary.
There’s a world beyond this small town, filled with new heights, sparkling eyes,
There’s opportunity beyond this small town, filled with dazzling life, neon lights.
I want to leave this small town that has like dust settled in my mind,
I was once content with simple life, now I want to escape, cut it with a knife.
But there’s a boy with a leash to my heart,
I try jumping the wire, but the mention of his name brings an ache of pain, brings me rushing back, needing stitches.
I’m afraid he’ll find a new small town girl, if I leave town.
Who’s not drawn to the wire, who’s happy with cold night fire,
Whose content with lying in the meadow, counting flying stars with his arm wrapped around her.
I am the wire, on the edge of both worlds, I am connected to the muddy earth, trapped to the life of indecision.
But I am fine with scars, if that means I am free.
I pull, I push, I pull, I push, I break on a thudding run, leaving the broken soil behind me.
I’m not a part of that small town anymore, nor attached to that man anymore, my mind is a clean slate for new places and faces.
Walking down my new street, neon lights guiding my footsteps, I look forward.