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Man made other fools
As he think of being learned
So, stupidity exist for pleasures?
And happiness may oneself  absorb

No way to walk miles ahead
It at least without other hands
Dances through the rhythm
And point  the days of time

Foolishness is a choice
Lot lust may wither
For no man is good enough
Yet, those some tried to be good

Knowledge is not all for good
In the absence of discipline
Yet, faith stand of alltimes
It seasons one's lost soul's

— The End —