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The Weekend
I travel alone in an ocean of thought,
A sea of memory, a river of feeling
My boat is a refuge, yet it is for naught
As the storm of reason sends me reeling
And the tempest of truth all things revealing
Plunges me into the depths of reality
And a small bird, its song almost healing
Chirps besides my refuge with me as its addressee
When I reach out and touch the bird its song begins to flee
And suddenly I wake, my only companions the dark
And the now silent bird sitting silently next to me
I slowly gather my things and prepare to disembark
On a journey of learning of knowledge
But the fact that it is the weekend I fail to acknowledge!
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