What was I ever looking for?
Perhaps my father’s sense of adventure
or was I getting away from my mother’s control,
Was I rising from routine or ruin?
Comfort in the 9 to 5,
reason in rigmarole,
stability in work and business,
the ego and id in overdrive.
I always felt I couldn’t get enough life,
it gets addictive,
what you like,
what bounds can break you.
Underpinning my own existence,
all ideas form from consequence,
the rebel was roused
and in subculture found identity.
My Parka ready,
music in my ears,
Farah shirt,
Gola trainers.
Thursday club was Indie night,
my late night escape,
my search for freedom again,
at least I felt free on the dance floor.
I always questioned reality,
What did I want in the mundane?
dulling my senses and draining
the colour from my eyes.
Connected by streets and history,
blood lines like routes,
always takes you back to a place
where there is an innate connection.
The boundary lines bond
an unspoken language
and when you are there
no-one is a stranger.
When people look you in the eye
and you see their soul and spirit
acceptance is second nature,
What was I ever looking for?