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unforseen effects created by the thought, eternity in a question, randomly answered by the answer that is questioned, related to the bypassing of the passing, tossed like the concrete it is, randomly thought of as if, mother earth shut it's doors, to open the windows of time, led by instinct that is programmed, and fate that is luck, to a lifetime of hoping, for the answer to the ultimate question.

poem by Matthew Boisjolie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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