I think I reached out,
In the hopes that someone might miss me.
Should I become suddenly unplugged,
From this place I call home.
For was I not an island?
A happy little solitary thing.
Challenged by changing winds,
Yet unwilling to sink for it.
As I meander on my way,
I am at a loss of my route.
For did I not sketch you carefully,
These changing fortunes called destiny.