his bags packed,
his ticket in hand,
he stared at the window,
waiting...
something keeps him
from leaving,
but his vagabond soul
thirsts for adventure...
if this is the life
planned for him,
why, then, must he resist...?
...
go, leave, forget, start again...
the old, familiar cycle of things
flashed before him
like a slideshow
... de ja vu, perhaps..?
