Maybe I exist in the hustle of each morning.
In the rise and fall of the sun, I lose my moon.
I am nowhere to be found.
Maybe I exist in the responsibilities I adorn.
Some passed down, others accompanied with ‘guilt’.
You might see glimpses of me,
In the old dreams I tucked away safe from the world.
Existence is easy, it is living I thrive for.
Tonight I am nowhere to be found.
Will start again tomorrow.
I am certain,
The search will end one day.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 
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