Meandering Life
Molding the soul
is caused by many
things, some magnificent
some malicious
some mythopoeic
and for me, my soul
remembered the opportunity
gifted by mysterious fate
(as everything has
perfectly aligned to my
dream) to be with
my loves, the marvelous
horses that fill me
with such bliss,
such overwhelmingly perfect
bliss, that I can
no longer ignore
the passion that
roars from my
throbbing mirthful heart
This poem is about:
Me
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