Stumble

The truth is

that I am not

a sage

I am a common traveler

looking

to find my way

 

I did not mean

to have

good intentions

to live a life

of a million

decisions

 

the truth

is that I

did not navigate

that I stumbled

upon the promised land

accidentally

 

I am just as lost

as you

I am the changing seasons

a sky once filled

with clouds

now blue

 

I am the leaves

vibrant, red and gold

one minute

then brown, and withered

falling, crepe-like hands

of the old

 

I too have one foot

in the grave

It’s just that I

am not complaining

I am trying my best

to be brave.

 

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