Traveling

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  • Life

    Traveling

    When I first heard them singing
    It had nothing to do with me
    I was young,
    I was strong,
    I knew where I was going.

    Now I hear them singing,
    And they echo through my mind
    Like a lost wind.

    Taking every wrong direction
    In my lonely way back home.

    And now I know
    God how I know!

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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    patsyellen’s Poems (1)

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