As one gets older,
without a foresight of the future,
from recent upcoming,
or distance uprising;
One becomes a wanderer,
clinging to old past,
of unfortunate downbriging,
or the painful unforgiving.
Lost not the foresight of path,
life brings horror of destruction,
in one's journey of choosing,
pick no stone, but the hidden abstrute
OF LIFE.
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