all that glisters is not
gold
you cant reclaim the soul thats sold
but as i walk beneath the sun
and ponder on the things i've done
down that path neath leaf and wood
where truth is not yet understood
whilst life is not entirely roses
do not hate the door that closes
the better love is found alone
where you can tend those seeds youve sown
from the crowd with its strange needs
to the simple nature of your deeds

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