That which I touch shall never lose my imprint
My past is encased in stone
I've mapped my footprints
though at the time I made them, I knew not where I trekked...
at times, I reflect on my misdirection with a heavy heart
but those steps are immovable, final
for better or for worse, or some middling scenario
or whatever...
my movements have grown more dexterous since
though I wonder if age grants us wisdom
or if we simply hold firmer to our conclusions
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