Maybe it’s because you’re young,
Or because you’ve had an easy life.
You seem to be happy,
Just throwing away the days.
We only have a certain number here,
Before we have to return home.
I plan to spend them living,
Really living, the best I can.
Maybe it’s because I’ve struggled,
I know what the bottom feels like.
I’m not satisfied staying still,
And doing nothing anymore.
I want to be outside,
Learning about this new country.
So if I have to,
I will leave you behind.
Maybe we’re just not the same,
At different places in our lives.
We are friends,
If only for a short time.
I can’t stay with you anymore,
I must move on and spread my wings.
This life you lead,
It’s not really living,
Not for me.
Lost Poetry 