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I have a thought that drives me back
to the time when I was young.

I have a key to that old lock;
The one that hides the songs unsung.

The brilliant light that shines today
on the fertile soil of now,

hides the darkest row of field;
The one I dare not ever plow.

I am remembering the good day.
I am kneeling by the stone.
Forgotten is the wrong way,
the way that left me all alone.

I have a thought that lingers ever
after all these golden years.

I have a torch that flickers brightly,
and dries the long-shed tears.

I climb always through the clearing now,
with its piercing yellow sun.

It blinds me and it shields me
from the thing that can't be done.

I am remembering the good day.
I am kneeling by the fire.
Forgotten are the old ways,
for here I am but higher.

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