Mindfulness

Cozy night at home,

Not looking for anything precious,

I look to the stone,

There is a man with a foam,

Looking like he is waiting too roam,

I open the door,

On a coldless night,

I ask,

My friend are you all right,

He replied,

Yes sir,

Just sitting reminicing,

About this girl,

Why what happened,

Is she not with you anymore,

He freaked out,

Wuaah you are such a bore,

No need to be offended I said,

Well you didn’t have to make me,

You know where this led,

I sat next to him,

As cold as it was,

It was still cozy,

I don’t want to be nozy but are you from Italy,

I heard him laugh inside,

I couldn’t wait for the reply,

He said no I am not,

I am from a small community in Iceland,

You know where it’s hot,

I thought about fisherman’s friend,

And said,

Come with me inside and let’s eat some bread,

He said no I can’t,

Why I asked,

He then said I want to finish last,

I then remembered a folk song I’ve hear,

No country for old men,

Sing like a bird,

It meant to me that the coziest thing is,

Too be free in the world,

So i left him by the stone,

As I walked longer,

I realized that my mind had gone,

I was no longer falling,

I was ready to be shovelling,

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