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My friends,
why do you beat down so
on this hard-baked surface of ordinary life?

Why do you fight so diligently
to repair cracks that would readily shelter the seeds
of your desires and dreams?

Slaves to the drum beat of progress,
you pound away at receptive soil, until
your dreams shatter on the adobe of the mundane,
desires roll down into silent, sterile despair.

My friends,
why do you beat down so
on this hard-baked surface of ordinary life?

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