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Like many a cloud that pass by the vast sky,

Like all the fallen leaves flowing with the river,

A thought, comes and passes by,

A remark, twinkles and disappears.

What comes across simply comes,

It is not often good or great,

Sometimes it just makes me ashamed,

I regret that thought again and again.

What comes across my mind,

Feels really dirty and horrid,

Still that flows goes, comes, and goes,

Bad, good, sad, mad, or regretting.

But let it come, why not,

Does it not just go away too?

Does it change anything, or what you feel?

It just comes, and goes, never repeats!

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