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To All the Places I've Known

Lauren Vernon



To all the homes I’ve yet to know,

I wander through this world with no home.
I rest my head on my new bed,

I find comfort, and yet, I feel dread.


A new city with symphony and strife,
It bustles and blooms a new life.
I feel young, I feel free,

I know no one and I wonder,

Will this help me?


The ocean hums and soothes,

So different, so beautiful than my typical blues.
Its expanse so endless and soothing,

I ride this wave with no end,
I know no one,

Perhaps, this means I’ll never be done?


I have no home,
At least not for today.

I search, I fly,
In hope, I’ll find it one day.

And I wonder,
Will I ever survive my own decay?

Trees in the Wind

Nothing you could do.

My love,


I see your roots,

A steadfast tree, unmoving and still,

Rooted to the grounds that provide life,

You grow even when you are cut down.


You find joy in sunlight and water,

Your roots never move,

Never buffer,

Never grow beyond your hill.



You need to understand,

Your routine is not my desire.

While I am but a bird on your branch,
I rebuild my nest each season,

I pluck different leaves as the seasons change,
I find new berries from the fields over the hill.

You cling to the ground,

As if your life depends on its resources.

I fly through the dark oak forest,

Through the thorns and predators.

You do not wish to be uprooted.

I have no roots.

How can I stay by your side, When all I wish,

Is to chase the newness you don’t see at all.


One morning, I leave the shelter of your leaves,

To pursue something neither of us can see.

My love,

don’t you know,

That you can never know it all?

Cute Notebooks

The notes I left you never told you how far we'd go.

Stuck in your room,

Alone and with nothing to do,

I wrote to you.


To our future, I wrote,

For you and me,

We’ll go far you see,

Farther than you or I would ever believe.


Lectured on and on,

Things will get better,

You won’t have to look on from afar.


Too far,

Too vast,

I told you,

One day we won’t be the outcast.


Time will drag,

Dreams will wither,

But believe in these notes,

And perhaps one day we’ll believe in those silly anecdotes.


I write as if you are real,

You are me,

And I am you.


I will know you,

Your dreams,

Your struggles,

Your favorite color too.


But you will never know me.

Future you.

Nobody Knows Me Here

For all the places that I’ve been,

To all the places that I’ve known,

And to all the places I will go,

I’m just a stranger here,

With a familiar face that no one knows.

Sunset Over Pier


On a ship of steel and bright lights,

We set sail into the night.

The ocean stretched out far and wide,

And I felt so small, yet alive.


As I wandered through the dancing crowds,

A smile caught me off-guard and bowed,

A stranger’s eyes met mine with ease,

A warm spark glittered up the ocean’s breeze.


We talked and laughed into the dawn,

At last, I felt like I had found my song.

We watched the stars dance up above,

And I knew I had a newfound love.


Five days and nights we spent in bliss,

Lost in each other’s company and that potential kiss,

We explored the four ports and the Atlantic with ease,

Finding new joys and making memories.


As the end of the journey drew near,

I felt a familiar twinge of fear.

But we promised to keep in touch,

Cherish what we found so much,

And for me, that was enough.


Back on land, miles apart,

Yet the love we found never left our hearts.

Will we remember that day at sea,

That forever and always,

Brought him down on one knee.

Cherry Blossom

Where should I go?

I wander through the streets,

Lost in thought, feeling incomplete.

I’m searching for a place to call my own.

Being torn between two homes.


One is where my heart was born,

A place that’s all too familiar and warm.

But the other is where my spirit roams,

A place that’s new and unknown.


I’m torn between the two,

Always thinking of what to do,

Do I where I’m comfortable and safe,

Or take a chance to completely change my fate?


Where do I really belong?

A place where I can feel strong.

Do I choose the familiar or the unknown?

The place where I grew up, or the place where I’ve grown?


Until then, I’ll keep searching,

For a place that will feel like my perfect ending.

A place that feels like a true home,

Where I’ll no longer have to roam.

Airplane Wing

American Eagle Flight Departing
from Atlantic City International Airport (609)
at 15:00 EST.

On long-haul flights, the people we meet,

Different faces and cultures,

A chance encounter, a moment in time,

Brought together as we depart from 609.


Some chat for hours, grandchildren and campfire stories galore,

Some sleep through the flight, and snore, snore, snore,

Some keep to themselves, in their own world,

Some stay anxious, with melatonin and looking for the door.


No matter how we spend our flight,

We share a journey, with different goals in sight,

And though we’ll likely never meet again,

This moment will stay, and life become a little less mundane.


For on long-haul flights, we see a glimpse,

Of the world, of life, and its endless imprints,

And we’re reminded of the human connection,

That transcends all borders, and life’s direction.

Airport Runway

Unfamiliar. Unforeseen. Unknown.

To leave behind what’s known and true,

To venture forth with no homework due,

To move abroad and start something new,

The hardships, there are quite a few.


A foreign land, a foreign tongue,

No family close, nowhere I can run to,

The loneliness, it can be so strong,

The nights can feel so very long.


The culture shock can be intense,

No familiar things, lost is my no common sense,

The smallest things can be immense,

Like buying food or paying rent.


A new bureaucracy can be a test,

The paperwork is always a mess,

The language barrier leaves me stressed,

It’s so easy to feel like this is some big contest.


Though the hardships aren’t always great,

And sometimes feel like too much weight,

Moving abroad has always been my fate,

That leads to love, oh so great.

London to Rome

Europe beckons, the open road,

   From Paris to Rome, Berlin to Madrid,

      The hostel life, a world of its own.

         It’s just my backpack and me,

            Simple and free.

               Living for the moment,

           Memories etched forever into my mind,

      Sharing stories, swapping tips,

   Each stop unique, its own story to be read,

Backpacking Europe, perhaps I’ll never be home.

Lauren author photo.jpg


Lauren Vernon is a writer from Houston, Texas. From the age of 10, Lauren has been passionate about writing, using it as a form of self-expression and communication. Her passion has taken her to various parts of the world, having traveled to over 10 countries, experiencing different cultures, and immersing herself in their stories. Through her writing, Lauren aims to share her unique perspective on life and the world around us. Her dedication to her craft and love for exploration continues to fuel her creativity.

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