First poem in a while

Walking seems to pass the time
and hours fly as i stroll in peace
i arrive where i should be
and open doors that quietly breath
the inside silent with whispering voices
golden knowledge stacked in rows
people sit and people stare all in all rather bare
i cannot see the things i want
but things are rarely ever here
where are you, where are you
the thought is young but oh so strong
i should have left the simple things
left it all to be alone.