ArbitraryA Poem by RooChildNo time neededThe tranquil winds of wisdom blow the tree, in which our curious minds fall and hang. For if heavy wisdom blows all is gone, but the roots remain. So let the infant be nourished and free with the purity of rain. © 2011 RooChild
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Added on July 26, 2011 Last Updated on July 26, 2011 Author
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