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The Autobiography of a Tree

The Traveler

 

 

We are mere travelers in this world
We come only to go
Somewhere along this path of life
Cherished memories we sow.

 

Life's imperfections when near
So repugnant they seem to appear.
It is them we hold so dear
When in solitude we despair.

 

'Tis too late we realize
Life has moved on to our surprise
So embrace life while we can
It may not give a second chance.

 

The simple joys, the acts of kind,
All add up to make life sublime.

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©2022 Saumabha Barua

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