He wandered until wandering became a chore, and then he sat.

He sat and put his face to the sun, it burned, it cracked his vulnerable skin.

Nothing was right in his world, nothing went his way, so he wandered, and so he thought, “If things aren’t right, then why stay put?”.

He had nothing, and he had no one, he’d failed to forge a legacy, failed to be what he could have, but some how this made him at peace.

He was burdenless, he only carried what he created himself and that alone was enough.

Written by Marcos Lopez 8-4-2021