I’m supposed to write a poem about beginnings, and I can’t think of how to start it.
Irony is not dead.
Endings are easy.
Simply keep going until you come to a point where things seem alright,
Where a quiet place waits.
Somewhere to put down what you’ve carried and rest.
Or stay.
The road might continue on
Stretching far and hidden into mists that wait to become dewdrops on your skin
But not all roads must be travelled.
Do not stop
You’ll know the end as hollow happiness
At an unmarked spot somewhere by the roadside.

This poem was inspired by a prompt given to me on New Year’s Day by my friend Madison, who runs her own blog at

Original Photography – My Instagram is @mitchel_ring

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