seeking to stride beyond the wake of routines
but maddened by my caution
my paths are lined with habits of comfort and fear
ruts serve as guardrails to the destination
time is running thin or so it seems
when belief is that fate is written
then blazing the charted course is the way
if the pen is within reach
script the page as a heart would wish

Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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The poem is really touching.
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