Life contains within itself a strange lack of perspicuity;
We are all strangers by default,
But become sworn enemies by contagion-
Like unknown varieties of some strange new weed,
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lovely pat souls with holes maybe thats to let the winds blow thru and take away all the build up of things not meant to be
I do like this poem, the second line is profoundly true. We'd do well to remember it. Very good.