Wander Lost

When the routines of life
shroud my peace
and cause me to wander lost

I long to be a small fish in a big pond,

to lose myself in the bright spot
of the next road’s vanishing
and to be born again in foreign eyes

I then awaken in remembrance
that happiness isn’t meant to be rationed
out like thin grey gruel

each day’s dawn is a sweet symphony
and as long as I hear the music
my dreams will have to die another day.

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