This piece is part of my 2016–2026 archive migration. Some original formatting, content, and external links may be missing, changed, or not be optimized.
Poetry | 11 Lines
I walk along the road…
And listen…
I hear the wind…
As the sun glistens…
As the sweat forms beneath my brow…
I look at all the beauty…
WOW
Sometimes I forget to look around
Sometimes all the gifts are muddied by sound
Sometimes I only see whats straight ahead
Sometimes I forget to look
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