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   Journey

    Tired of searching.
    Weary body, soul, mind.
    Endless, unrelenting prattle entering me.
    Coming, going:  Pulled either way.

    Not sure of outcomes.
    An obtuse joke,
    Take is serious of not. Your choice,
    Yet choose quickly.

    I become bored and I wait,
    Then Time continues.
    Stop and are stunned silent,
    Listen and there is only echoes.

    Clouded vision, clouded mind?
    Depends on beliefs and lies.
 
 

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*This poem has another home at the art of poetry