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A Beam
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The rhythmic waves
floating, fleeting craves
moods unshown, unseen
and lives so grown, so sheen

With rides of bumps and cracks
but still so very lax
so thoughts flying, fleeting, falling
are yet a shortage-not allotting

Thoughts of old, and thoughts of new
thoughts a-going, and thoughts a slew
and yet a slow they seem--so slow
all within a little beam