And the poet stopped.
Took a deep breath and with a a sigh
Started all over again.
Only this time, he lived one day at a time.
Loose from all human attachment.
Loose from all the pain, all the tears
A choice not by desire but necessity.
And on each day he only looked ahead,
Miles away into the fog where a bright light made statement.
The poet looked only at the mysterious lighthouse.

Published by Solomon

I write to get a better understanding of the world, why we feel the way we feel and how we can channel our emotions to achieve greater stories

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