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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