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All I wanted, was an ordinary life.
A small poem about a man who finds himself a misfit in pace of the life and remembers his days from countryside, where he could never return.
Published in
3 min readJun 17, 2024
I am tired,
tired of mornings,
and of the noon,
and of drowsy afternoons,
but evening comes like an old friend,
and here I am,
in a city park,
next to the tree,
older than me,
younger than this city,
as exhausted as I am,
of people it sees,
running from dawn to dusk,
hopelessly,
bound to the chains,
of their desires,
and of the dreams,
that are,
yet to be fulfilled.
Tree and I,
we are friends now,