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The Wheel

Free us from the sphere that surrounds us,
A shape that haunts us and decides our living.
We wanted freedom of a different sort,
A face is contorted by this freedom
And changes it to liberty, the extreme sort.
We calculate the life that begins to radiate beauty,
And inside the sphere is a circle that is perfect,
A hidden quality always worthy and special.
A circle is not a three-sided shape,
But a special line of fortune.

We can never be triangular,
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