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Rated: E · Poetry · Nonsense · #1556093
A poem about things. Individual interpretations will vary.
Branches, sticks, and pine cones
Planes and cars and time zones
Struggling not to break
Avoiding each other carefully

Ears that listen hear
Eyes that cry have tears
Tears are water; water runs
Runs like a refrigerator

All things still move
With motion fit in grooves
The beat of stuff goes on
Round sounds pound and resound around the ground

All is part of life
All is partly mine
Listen with hearing ears
Cry with tearful eyes, and then stop
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