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This Puzzle
I remember the time
She called it all a game,
This puzzle called life
We move around in,
Some things are too
Simple for what we
Think is an educated
Mind, and I had just
Met the mystic farmer
With
the telescope in
His loft and thoughts
That were shaking the
Foundations of what
We called an education,
It was as crazy then as it
Still is and who would
Have guessed where it
All would lead, this
Path they led me onto,
The farmer is dead and
I’m not sure if she is
Still moving the pieces,
I think about them as
I
think about you in
This puzzle called life
We move around in.
Stephen Nesbitt © .
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