Italian Plowhorse

How I miss that unceasing strength
Of which I don’t have a tenth,

It never mattered the work to do
Or the obstacle encountered
He just hitched up and pulled through
His strength never floundered

Life didn’t have to be perfect,
As long as he kept breathing
There would always be time to fix it
He’s strength never retreating

How I miss that man!
The Italian Plowhorse

Mental Journey

I am on a journey of the mind. Contemplating the universe on every scale, and doing a complete introspective exploration. I may never be a literary academic, but I share my humble thoughts in hope that they may inspire others.

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