Any Place But Those I Know By Heart
In the solitude of my heart
by Warren Augustus de Guzman
I wonder how my body gets from point a to point b
how, day after day, it survives the monotony
The grind that is known as my life…
But then again my heart doesn’t think.
It just feels.
It attaches itself to familiar places.
Places and faces, races and stages.
So I thought, in order to break my despair
At my life’s monotonous drone.
I must attach myself to places and faces.
Any place but those I know by heart.