Lonely traveller

There must be a reason why I always travel alone. And trace a route solo. How I dwell in once glorious piazzas and temples of gold where many pass but none offer a welcoming hand. I have to force so rudely upon them and hope the bait be taken.
I must for lives I lived make an effort to attach my presence presently to someone on their journey home to Rijeka. I am capable. But maybe I am an age, I alone, see as young?

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