To the End of the Earth
None walk past its gaping mouth without turning. Where truth becomes lies and lies turn to memories I sit where the end begins.
Poetry and Prose
None walk past its gaping mouth without turning.
Where truth becomes lies and lies turn to memories
I sit where the end begins.
How did I arrive? I simply walked with my feet, sore and dirty.
The road behind me is you, and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead.
Cool spring days wher…
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