By Almas Arif
The journey of your road,
Only you are meant to walk it alone.
No one else will walk it for you.
Some may come like the wind—
They are just passersby,
Not meant to stay.
Some may arrive like the last chapter of a book—
They are meant to be remembered as lessons,
Not to be mourned over.
In the end,
Some are like the pen in your hand,
To write the story of your life.
Only they are meant to stay,
To understand your pains and gains.
They alone are worthy of being kept,
And they remain like the letters on the page.
By Almas Arif
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