Eulogy to Wanderlust

When time began to rip a hole inside

Of all the men on Earth, he left a want

Within the brain which once had been kept warm

The men, unknowing (now the race). A track

Of steel was forced into his skull, without

The proper guide to fill the void, forlorn.

And now the body cries in pain of loss

In something known as wanderlust, which had

Been fed in times before. We starve, adorned.

And slowly, pain will die away just like

The dogs that Pavlov trained; we'll drool at the

Small sound, an echo which doth resonate, worn

And tired. For it has traveled long and far

To come to sit where seats can not be found

Any longer. And who denies the right to sit?

Our damned society.