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The
most complex part of life is this:
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All
the simple things are always missed.
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They
thrive upon the verge of knowing,
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But
we rarely see what they are showing.
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Edge
of eyes paint a world of color
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I'm
me; You're you; There is no other.
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Time
exists in frames of perceived mind;
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But
release the thoughts, and time unwinds
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Complex,
yes? Or perhaps, so it seems...
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Where's
your reality? Where's your dreams?
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Nonsense
words? Oh my! Oh yes, of course!
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For
a poem needs such rhyme and verse.
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But
simply put: Simple's in your grasp.
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Where
is it, you say? Well... simply ask.
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