If serenity existed at the bottom
Of a bottle, it would cost more
Than $7.99 a liter. Yet I keep searching
For it in brown liquid that stings
On the way down. Perhaps not.
It is the journey that turns me on.
I continue strolling down
The wrong paths, holding
A working compass in my left hand,
A stainless steel flask in the other.
I fear that once I find this fabled
Peace that passes all understanding,
There will be no other roads to travel,
All that would remain is to stand still–
And a stagnant life is one not worth living.
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen