Intent on finding the answer,
The irrevocable truth,
I set out, backpack over the shoulder,
Worn sneakers on the feet.
A beggar by the side of the road
Extends his palm to me.
Putting a coin into his hand,
I ask, "What's life's purpose, old man?"
Without a pause, he answers,
"Freedom."
A barman at a pub where I quench my thirst
Tells me, "Good times."
From a shepherd, I get a firm "Family".
I walk on, to the house of the wise man.
I knock on his door,
He greets me with a smile,
Amused by my expectant face.
"The purpose is the search."
"The search for what?" I ask.
"For yourself," and softly shuts the door.
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