May 31, 1991

142. The Wandering Stranger

How oft I’ve wondered
What happiness means
Through clear blue skies
And age-old streams,
Through lush green forests
And sunsets far away;
I have spent my life
Searching for it day by day.
Little do I find, but
Still I travel on,
Walking towards the sunset,
Walking towards the dawn.
The farther I wander,
The more I come to know,
But how futile it is,
For I have nowhere to go,
Yet show me a world in which
I could live my life with you,
And surely, I would travel there.
But what a fool to think it’s true,
So father on I journey
In this circle ‘round and ‘round,
Looking for something
Never to be found.

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