Far too long ago,
I stood on a bridge,
In crowded solitude,
Counting stardust; those city lights,
Ignorant that it belonged,
Each for a man and his dream,
Limping endlessly, by alleys,
Of censored minds.
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I feel like it was going somewhere but sort of veered off track. Thanks for writing.
That’s the intent of the poem. We all start our journey thinking that we are heading somewhere else. But at times we don’t. 😉