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A Loner

The pen which bleeds one such story,
In royal ink of pain and melancholy,
Flows easily and how easy it looks from the surface
Yet too far from galloping feet of the race.
And often my mind flies in a paper jet plane,
And gets caught into the wilderness of the world again,
And often I hear the noises within me,
Wake up to the wild spirits longing to be free.
I keep the lid open to the air.
I believe in faith and prayer.
That helps me catch little sun rays in a jar,
That will turn into fireflies under the stars.
And glow in the darkness while I sit under,
The loneliness of the skies is still a wonder,
The moon and the stars will fill my emptiness,
And in them, I search for my happiness.
Over the years the night skies watched the man getting older,
To his brink filled with knowledge and wisdom yet quite a loner.

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