The Journey

I feel the same as I first felt
When walking out at longest last,
Not knowing, though, my going spelt
The final break with all things past.

But now there’s nothing left to lose;
I’m guileless as a newborn lamb,
And so I choose the words I use:
It isn’t who but that I am.

I rove and roam from sea to sea
And leave behind both hope and fear,
And everyone I meet is me,
And everywhere I go is here.

I’m not about to end my ways
When every day’s the day of days.

Photo by Nicholas Sampson on Unsplash

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