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THE TRACKLESS PATH

When Wits Fail

​With downward eye he cries,
But not aloud.
An inward aching, fearful
Shifting from side to side.
A turning tearful glance.
 
To what? To where? How much?
Alone? What if? And Why?
All at once.
 
And then to where his soul would fly…
No place, nowhere,
No answer.
But to try.
 
But he’s worn out to trying
And broken to the fight.
 
The world is run by wits
But when wits fail, what then?
Picture

Copyright © 2016 J.A. McCormick and The Trackless Path - Please feel free to copy, share or re-publish anything found on this website or in any of my works.  However, the permission to change the content in any way whatever is withheld.  
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