Dear Robinson

In this small world where we live in,

Where "busy" is the only word leaving our mouths,

Where our feet are stuck in the past,

Is there any path towards the future?

Without any thought about our actions,

Just our doubtful feelings,

Our broken experiences, and our "witty" tongue

To guide us to where who knows tomorrow may be

Should one's life be cherished like this?

Great Spontaneity, I'm humbled to see thee!

Or should I say... nevermind.

Although curveballs and surprises are definitely welcoming,

A guide to prepare would allow the heart to rest.

Perhaps the eyes can then look further without hesitation

To infinity where the soul may lie:

Happily found, and beaming with contentment.

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