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The Stream | ||
| The glistening stream bubbles on down the glen, Forgetting so quickly just where it has been. At times it will stretch and become like a glass, Reflecting the faces of those it should pass. Although it may seem in a terrible rush For now it decided it's better to hush. When later it flows through a narrower path It murmurs and gurgles as if filled with wrath. It goes on its way, showing nary a care, Just doing its thing with some strength left to spare. | ||
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