Holiday

It is the freedom where everyone
Lets go of their worries
Knowing that they need not
Think of such things
And thus they resort to do
Everything that they please
But, alas, their thoughts have
Fleeted away
Like a migrant bird that has
Lost track of its path
And find itself lost forever
They only see the freedom
But not its purpose
What should be the purpose
Of this freedom if
Its guidance has been lost behind
In the stampede within the mind...