PurposeA Poem by MarkThe big questionAnd the Universe splintered Each piece of life, hungry. Each piece wanting, yearning. And some splinters were gifted and damned with thought; looking at night skies. And these thoughts always led to questions: 'WHY?' 'HOW'? many and none were the answers. And as the stars dimmed and the curtains were drawn, Finally, purpose was discovered. Slowly the splinters drew back in to form the One; and It started again.
© 2013 MarkReviews
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Added on October 10, 2013Last Updated on October 10, 2013 AuthorMarkDallas, TXAboutI"m a gypsy born in New Hampshire, raised in Alaska, schooled in Washington, raised a family in California. Recently settled in Concord NH area. Where to next? I don't really have to think about it, i.. more..Writing
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