At some point on the wheel of time I was a poet in a past life, strolling through the wilderness with my familiar friend Smokey the dogg, and I glanced up at heaven and composed this piece:
Ooh, how pleasant-
The Moon so crescent!
With a star above it's curve
us bards do observe the omens
with those unknown nomenclatures
that show the flows of nature
You see the trees grow the paper,
as the rain supplies the ink-
and Synchronized inside all lives are drives to rise and think...
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