Does it need to be stoked, this spark to a fire
Or is not such a strongly felt desire
How often have I started to write
And then given up, thinking it’s too trite
These thoughts of mine are now so commonplace
Who would read them, they are so out of grace
I wonder where I lost them, those words I now search for
I have traveled so much, that they seem so afar
Am tired of this travel, that doesn’t seem to end
Just when I thought it was over, it turned out to be a bend
It has no destination, race to nowhere, places none
But I’m afraid to be left behind and so I leap and I run
I left behind a part of me, I now wish I could retain
But I have let it go, and washed away my tears in the rain



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