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Sep 2013
His stream of consciousness was shallow. If a leaf were to settle upon the brook, to grace his life by falling gently to the waters, it would be swiftly babbled away.  
A leaf, a friend, a lover - none were given a chance to reach the calm below the surface. His thoughts, the stones, and pebbles were constantly turned by the ever flowing tide that carried him along his path alone. Go deeper **** it.
December 2012
Idle Insignificance
Written by
Idle Insignificance  Melbourne
(Melbourne)   
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