Poetry in Spoken Word by Tracy Kocsis - HTML preview
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Sometimes I long to be
A pioneer of my own destiny.
I want to believe that
No others have come before me.
I ‘m not able to see the road
Of broken hope and broken dreams.
Wistfully, I wander-
A nomad blazing a trail.
Ignorantly, I falter-
But I fail to see my own errors.
I’ll keep stumbling along-
I won’t utter a single prayer
Until devastation overwhelms me
My pain, I will not share.
