The vast green meadow was there almost as if made for him,
And he went there often,
To disappear for hours.
Just to sit in the field and think, remember, calm down;
Sometimes to even cry;
Other times to sing.
There was a single rule he made for that field:
Never bring anything but a book, some paper pencil and yourself.
No gadgetry or anything but what you need.
And that was all he did.
All unwanted necessities were put away in his desk;
And only his heart was with him.
"Just another one of those days,
Sitting in the field, all alone;
Wishing for someone to hold;”
Was what she wrote in her notebook
On one of those sunny days,
Hidden by the tall grass on that vast green meadow.
And that field harbored two broken souls,
That could be one healed soul when merged together;
But neither of them was aware that the other one existed.
And he went there often,
To disappear for hours.
Just to sit in the field and think, remember, calm down;
Sometimes to even cry;
Other times to sing.
There was a single rule he made for that field:
Never bring anything but a book, some paper pencil and yourself.
No gadgetry or anything but what you need.
And that was all he did.
All unwanted necessities were put away in his desk;
And only his heart was with him.
"Just another one of those days,
Sitting in the field, all alone;
Wishing for someone to hold;”
Was what she wrote in her notebook
On one of those sunny days,
Hidden by the tall grass on that vast green meadow.
And that field harbored two broken souls,
That could be one healed soul when merged together;
But neither of them was aware that the other one existed.
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