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A Visitor from a Distant Generation

In disguise as a young man in the city,
But the bright young life
No longer belongs to me,
No Londoner, I'm just a carbon copy,
Doing some travelling,
I’m a visitor
From a distant generation,
Please don’t ask me
Where those fleeting years have flown to,
They’ve just gone travelling.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

It's like a young man wondering the streets until he sees his reflection in a window, then sees who is really is. Beautiful.

Thank you...Teddy

That's a great interpretation, Teddy. Carl.

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