A quarter of a century
Solitude seemed the answer
To the doubts of love
The regrets of attachments
To the investment of time
To dreams of happiness
Until I poked
A certain soul
Of smiles curled in sun
And warmth that lasts night
The question vanished,
Memories Captured
It wasn’t about
The Answers
There was contentment
In having none,
Like magic, of not having thoughts
Was only
The Answer
I seek
I need
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