This morning I woke up from a dream
and the next small poem came about:
I traveled in a blue bus, on its side a white line
We rode through a landscape wonderfully fine
and a man sitting in the seat in front of me
was reading the paper absorbing all negativity
while missing completely the beauty of reality
and the next small poem came about:
I traveled in a blue bus, on its side a white line
We rode through a landscape wonderfully fine
and a man sitting in the seat in front of me
was reading the paper absorbing all negativity
while missing completely the beauty of reality
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