Poetry (words)


I’ve followed many paths, but yours was the most beautiful. So much so that the thought of leaving never crossed my mind. I saw the exit signs, but always found another route. Maybe I should have closed the gates behind me, maybe. 

I stood bewildered sometimes at the sheer depth I’d fallen, wondering if I’d ever stop. I found verse in my heart and wrote every word.  This has become a diary of that path. Sometimes through anger, but mostly through love. 


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