A couple of nights ago I wrote a poem,
And so and so and so and so
He thought and thought and thought,
I wish I had more time for thinking,
More time for sport,
More time for reading
and swimming in rivers, lakes and ponds,
More time for writing words
to as yet unfinished songs.
"But this want is good my dear,
I would far prefer to fear
The passing of time, than to hold on
To times passed too dear."
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