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Life a
forest stretches for miles around Leaves
litter the ground, The
path weaves through the trees, says
one leaf to his partner,
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[A discussion of the meaning of life with an
end aptly fitting something that humans do not understand (The original poem had
no ending...ask me for the final line I concieved for it). The seemingly
meaningless patterns to life lead us in circles of intellectual despair. Perhaps
the answer is to simply stop asking, and just be?]