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I am merely a wanderer,
passing through meadows and thorns.
In an endless journey of seeking and living.
An anchorless ship,
floating in the vast ocean.
Where wind whistles and blows,
as I travel around the compass.
Clueless and uncertain.
Will I be able to find it?
YOU ARE READING
Letter to the Lost
PoetryThere are words left unsaid. Perhaps by choice. Maybe too late. Here's to words that remain with us forever.