when you find the thing
you're looking for
it's often outside
your front door
it was always there
at the stoop
you just weren't
in the loop
much too busy
going to and fro
to be the one
that's in the know
when you find the one
you're looking for
you're not searching
anymore
if you keep
searching
not sure for what
don't know who
you're not alone
the lost race
grows
like
Pinocchio's nose
lost in a cloud
immersed in the net
looking, looking
haven't found it yet
No comments:
Post a Comment