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Finding Contentment (Poem)

Wasted memories swirling with my tears,
Painful flashes hastily pasted on years.
I travel far and wide to end alone,
Knowing the sins for which I atone.

It suits me to walk unbound,
Steeped with the trinkets I’ve found.
March I again into the night,
Standing upon my art and might.

Most love I found, I dried and spent,
Knowing joy now I am content.
A good latte and better book,
Is all that is needed the more I look.

Literature | Poetry

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