Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“Often it is sadness in quiet cold embrace of which I find solace, rather than warm exhilerance of happiness. For they remind me of cold winter nights when I could hold a glass of scotch whole night and not get drunk, when I could hold a drop of tear in my half numb fingers and watch them melt me bit by bit, when I could have nothing but words for dinner and poetry arrives uninvited to deliver a moment happiness has not known yet.”