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Aroma of pleasantries greet the air
As fleet of faces grace the day...
At midpoint he stands,
Aloof with joggling thoughts...
Sing to me the morn' song,
Play to mine ears the tunes of praise...
Fountain of hope is waning,
River of tears fills my heart...
The roses of ambience buds thorns
Unto an ally it is given...
Idleness - the perpetual state of engaging in things you do not want to.
Ignorance is akin to a man walking down life's plain without care; but once he stumbles on knowledge, ease of movement ceases.
by Dagmar Wilson
by Ben Pickard