h o m e . . .
what is home to the vagabond soul,
spiralling,
splintering,
skewered,
unwhole.
plodding along,
paths of
broken glass,
comforting,
cajoling,
assuring
my tattered soul:
that these desolate moments,
must
also
pass
Very poignant my friend. The reality for so many
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thank you as always my friend. yes the reality for so many in this world of plenty but only for the few
Peace ✌ always
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Agree ❤️
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100%
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