Full Moon Party

I’ve seen that look; Those wandering eyes, That unshaven beard Lethargic sigh- I’ve seen that hunger, Now looking closer- I know your culture Of backpackers. You seek the promise The answer to sate That appetite for more Than this miserable fate. So you travel the world Meet strange new lands And as everything unfurls, Make even grander plans. But in this respite, I beg you, look closer. Herein lies the blunder, Of a million walkers. The sun, moon and stars are the same And a heavy backpack will not change The fact that you were born in a cemented cage. You seek yourself but you run away ’Cause they cannot bear to see you grow Into something that they do not know. And what of these new wandering friends? See them for a day, perhaps weekend? There is never a tomorrow when it comes to them. So what do you do after 8 months of raves? You unpack that bag. You take off that shirt Under a pile of crinkled Thai dirt. You take a good long shower. And finally kiss your mother. And there really is nothing quite as spectacular. Funny how we travel far and wide In search of our reflection in foreign waters When the truth is it can be found in more familiar tides; Her glistening, accepting, forever loving mother’s eyes.