I've always had a superficial cliche expectation of love. You'll bump into someone on the street laugh and drown in their eyes never letting go.
Someone would just stumble into your life and be your soul mate.
You'll lock eyes with a stranger and fall madly in love with the ocean of emotion in their eyes. But as I grow older my hopeless romanticism of the world is becoming harder and harder to believe. The world isn't cliche. You don't bump into the love of your life. I want the world to be bright and shiny and full of love and hope but I've yet to find a glimmering moment of clichéd hopeless love. Maybe someday I'll find it in the eyes of a stranger or maybe I'll end up alone still hoping to be swept off my feet. I'm just worried I won't be able to hold on to my optimistic outlook.
YOU ARE READING
Whims of a weary traveler
PoetryDo you want to know my life? Do you want to read the whims of a weary traveler? Are you too a lost boy holding the pieces of his life in his hands? Read if you dare know the soul of a wanderer looking for home.
