Today I asked myself a question again. At my age do I have enough life in me to begin again? And the questions just kept flowing from my mind to my hearts end. Do you know where to go from here? And to no end all this feelings began to fill me secreting sorrow that maybe tomorrow I will fail with more sorrow then the days that followed.
How is it that no progress is met with more support than the knowledge that to begin is to hopefully meet at some end for which was only your journey alone to begin. Oh but the truth transcends that a possible failure on your part may lend more bends in your life's roads before it ends. I know now looking back as the words I write down whisper to my ears what a fool I have been.
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