Our days are
numbered in dark we pine
the ink we lay makes
for great light
turns we take in
word we create,
brighter are our
days as we fight
the tendency to give
up our dreams
and you, this is how
it seems
to grow like the
weeds that entangle our feet
bring us home at the
end of the day
how long will we
wander in the sweet
notion that we can
control our destiny
raise your head,
take a deep, deep breath
for we may never
know more or less
What are you? Who are you?
Do you know your
mission in this old world?
Why do you ask and
get stuck in frustration
When there is so much
to enjoy in elation?
Cross your fingers,
it is time to get on the boat.
Wave to those you
leave behind
And let the clear light
of day unwind.
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