Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing Heaven, and gazing on the earth,
Among the stars that have a different birth,–
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
walled in on my way like i often went,
i couldn’t carry the message
all the way to you,
so i ducked out of the train and left it at grand,
it’s right next to the elevator,
between two tiles.
i hope you find it;
i wish our paths had crossed again.