And yet, not long enough,
Sometimes missing something until you cry,
Teaches you about love,
And it can also give you perspective,
On what is important,
The one way to triangulate yourself,
Is to walk towards where you once pointed,
Like when I pointed at that little kid,
Smiling at the big dog,
His parents telling him to be careful,
Him, living in a fog,
And here I am,
Sitting drunk and alone,
Thinking of all the things I could've been,
If I wasn't taught to fear the unknown.
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