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Forget

I was not a direction of the wind

Sprinkle with the dust drift

I was of the secular stained.

Thus, I stopped

Probably because the tired

Tired is losing its way.

Suddenly, a greater wind tapped my shoulder

How can you still here?

I stand in amazement, and

To the north

And I did not go … …

Sooner or later

Perhaps it is very important

Is it all have been late?

I

Work, work

As the winds of the shares

Lose our direction.

[Editor in charge: Man Tree]]

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