Take Aim
No claim to fame. Nothing large and lame, Nor regretful shame. Eyes bright and clear. Still sight and hear The low rumble, my dear, Of the anxious, unknown fear. Mistakes still made. Miscalculations I’ve paid. But lasting satisfaction I crave From unsure actions that wave And tempt to risk the Inner seal I’ve saved. Clouds drift northward And I am fine As darkness fades From the path I unwind 11/6/22
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November 2024
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