There are so many here. Some together, some alone; some connect.
The unknown, the lost, the seeking, the ever-hopeful.
Simple words bloom and die, then bloom again somewhere else. We might find the right ones in bits and pieces, everywhere. Only to take them apart, try to put them together again.
What changes, what remains?
What doth thou look for? What doth thou think thee may find?
What have you to say?
thy living a life ,in all steps ,knowing self ,just never living as self .
ReplyDeleteWhat I looked for when really wasn't looking ,I found way more than ever dream
Foolish to feel ,What I found ,deserved more than me
which in turns
being me ,in all living
No one could be me
All this time ,love was not a dream
was not far away
Was staring through my eyes ,was right in front of me .