The March Poem by joe foster
The March
a never ending trail,
luxuries unknown,
marching to the end,
the light that has been spoken of,
cutting all ties,
becoming ones own,
a soul that never dies.
a new path that never lies.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: lies
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8/25/2026 3:09:11 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
