
On top of your second
mile of a stone—
Finally!
Just about how it feels.
At eighteen,
you start to see the future—
pathfinding a way home.
The past, replaced.
Fades as destinations
eat the crumbs.
Once dropped—
You can’t go back now
at forty-five.
The past and the future
starts to hint.
Audiences!
Thank you for reading!
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Share your thoughts.
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Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
About the Creator
K.A. Smith
K. A. Smith – published author and poet with experience in architectural design. I try to bring love and life into every poem or story. I believe every piece of art is "effective" in some way. Please follow along, and share your thoughts.




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