An amazing feeling
To be invisible
Going rogue
Being a ghost
Wandering
Knowing that somewhere
A world away from you
A lost soul
Is waiting for you
To hand in a paper
That they will never get
Because you are busy
Combing a beach
Camping
Picking flowers
Or doing nothing at all
In your wooden Muskoka chair
Because
Life
Is
Too
Short
to
be
writing
that
paper