My insulation of time is wearing thin,
My life is nearly over, before I could begin,
What will I say when they ask,
Did you find any truth, or complete any task?
I did find life a fascinating thing,
But what does that matter? What does it bring?
I have found my own version of truth
Unencumbered by wealth, unencumbered by youth
I lived by the streams and slept under the stars,
I laughed at pain, and accepted the scars
But only when I got old did I find a reason
To come inside, and avoid the season,
That was when I learned how to write,
To sit by a fire, and not be trite.
The blaze stays warm on my face,
And I spend my time writing, I'm not a disgrace.
That is the way it worked for me,
You might find a different way,
Open your eyes and see.
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