One day you are a young man
drifting without a direction,
your future shrouded
in unresolved mist;
dabbling in church,
and university,
and teaching, with poetry
on the side;
and then a lone gunman,
resolving his own mist,
gives you the choice
Paris was given.
And you take it,
and write,
until another man
uses his gun.
04.11.2021
#Poem #Poems #Poetry
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