I got here via the backroads. It was not an easy trek and I sacrificed a lot but I made it. I dont know how much of me is here but im here. I remember one night I had to sit in the bushes and not make a move for two whole days. Its like I was staring at the world and just watching it pass by as the sun set and rose.
It was a scene set for prose and yet I didnt say a word. I reveled in silence and knew that moving forward sometimes meant hanging back a bit.
I struggling just as I am sure that you have struggling. Your effort is not lost on me. Quite the opposite, I see and recognize your effort and realize that you were meant to be here poet.
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