Fool's Gold
Lured across the world were we,
to setting sun, ancient sea,
lured to pastures greener?
Wanderlust gripped the core of me,
to setting sun, and ancient sea.
Naiveté fueled, footloose; free,
lured to pastures greener?
Herded, prodded, poked,
primed-pumped,
gripped by fool's gold's glittering sump;
always searching never free;
to take a moments time for me.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2008
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