( and now, for an attempt at semi-original, true-to-life poetry... )
Mary

Mary had a little fear,
Its fur was as white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The fear was sure to go.

It followed her to school one night;
Which was against the rule;
It made the children weep with fright,
To see a fear at school.

“Why does fear follow Mary so?”
The frightened children cry;
“Why, Mary lives in fear, you know,”
The teacher did reply.

And so the teacher turned it out,
But still it lingered near;
And waited patiently about,
Till Mary did appear.

When out was Mary, alone and keen,
Her fear came trotting quick;
It took her heart in claws unseen
And made a snack of it.

The Atlantic Journal of Alex Ewing

It was with a calculated amount of regret that I embarked on this journey, searching for a destiny brimming with promises of new and exciting knowledge as well as that subconsciously prophesied place in life where one could finally settle down and practice his craft. I might have succeeded, at no small cost – but what point is there in measuring the cost, when it has already been paid? No, one must gaze firmly at the horizon, lest one's destiny be overseen during the meaningless meditation on things long lost and gone.

(...)