How can I walk in the sun

when I am blind

and no one’s child anymore?

I am tired in my bones

in my very breath.

Yet I go on

step by step

day by day

Searching for what was

when it can be no more.

The sun willows down my arms

kisses me on my aging head

breathes warmth into the cold.

I am just one soul

in this vast and harried world

and I question my value.

Does it matter if I walk forward

when so much is left behind?

Who is listening?

Who is noticing?

I cannot fathom the rippling wave

of my life

in this titanic sea of humanity.

Is it all real?

Do I really exist?

And more importantly:


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