Yesterday I talked to a girl
who’d achieved a goal;
a goal she’d set for eight long years.
And I was happy for her.
I admired.
I admired the desire and the dedication,
the focus and the execution.
And I asked myself:
For what have I worked all these years?
To what end my efforts?
What purpose holds me here?
In that evening light I found –
only silence.
A plane flies overhead;
and cars do u-turns on a one-way street.

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