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At the end of the day
My thoughts drift away
Through a sky so blue
Through the clouds so grey
And they travel forever
With no rhyme or reason
To a far distant place
To a fine summer season
And as I watch them fly
So free and so light
As the end of the day
Just turns into night
Then my thoughts, they return
To people my dreams
They are the strong stitches
That sew my loose seams
And I wake the next morning
With ideas galore
And a whole day to make them
Whatever and what for
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Lovely. Thank you.