A few months; a poem

A few months; a poem

As the city guides me,

Towards the places I feel most free,

I notice I only think of what there is,

Certainly not focussing on what I miss.


In this exact moment,

As the leaves start to fall,

I don’t feel the need to call,

Upon my sense of the past,

Even though life has been moving so fast.


I now see that it was putting me to the test,

The moment has come to finally move on,

As I surpassed the role of being one of the city’s guests,

Releasing what was already gone,

Reflecting on the stages already done,

Resistance decreasing of what is to come.


As I find myself a few months in,

Distancing myself from what life used to be,

Almost seems like some sort of sin,

Though I can’t help myself,

Feeling settled into my new place,

I catch myself capturing Amsterdam’s gaze,

Through golden glasses, a view that stays.

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