This place is a market
Its not a permanent abode
We all come to the market
At different time
...
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Beautiful write. This poem reflects in different ways. People go to market for buying, selling or window shopping and journey back home. It can be taken as trading in shares too where people make profit and sure to have a blissful rest. A final Journey back, from where we came, is the final resting place for all. Thoughtful write. Loved the way you presented it beautifully.
that was not really what i was looking for but nice poem