The Traveller Poem by okeme james

The Journey may seems to take days
but I think I know my way
taking a look at the others
I wished they were my brothers

Even when I’m tired of reading my books
I try to take a look
either at the tall waving trees
or at the huge mountains that are still

At night comes the wind that brings cold
and no one seems to come out bold
covering from head to feet
so as to create some source of heat

Staying by and hearing strange sounds
straining my ears and looking around
looking up into the sky I can’t find the birds
staring at me is my frightened little pet under the chair

I can’t just wait to get down
and go into the busy and beautiful towns
I know I got a story to tell
to those that are willingly to hear.