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The Well Of Truth

Student of life,
Rain falls in cold showers,
When you have deep pockets,
You climb the high towers.
 
The well of truth,
Drink from its sweet waters,
Tasting of bright freedom,
And picking red flowers.
 
Total blind instinct,
You can't see where you're going,
But you know what you're doing,
And the ball that you're throwing.
 
Where? When? How?
These questions all asked,
But still living in a fish bowl,
In a watery liquid trap.
 
Break the sound barrier,
Into a million separate pieces,
Go faster and faster,
To make the outer reaches.
 
Why move so quick?
When you can just drive a car?
Why orbit the moon?
Or come near a star?
 



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