If my road is long,
should I bring anything along?
I am empty handed,
a bird without a song.
Wondering here then there,
barely enough clothes to wear.
If you see me here,
I've heard you there.
No money have I,
just this stone slab.
Stony I feel,
unaware I've fallen.
Falling so low,
why am I alone?
The road is long,
will you come along?
Be my bird with song,
help my dreams along?
Beware of the obsession,
loneliness can become accustomed.
J.M.
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