We are wanderers, you and I,
stumbling along an unmarked atlas.
Oh, but our journey is not of hapless,
wandering men. Our journey is one
of reflex; the infantile grasp
of discovery.
We are students, you and I,
Inventing through wide, wondering eyes;
Seeds new to the wilds of Spring.
Oh, but our journey is not less than a
cultivation of experience.
Originally Posted On Site: 2007-11-10 18:42:41
Last Login: 03.12.08
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