Spattering of dirt caught in the air,
The minuscule bits and pieces of hair,
Flakes of skin cells cast to the side,
Upon non-disturbed spaces is where they reside.
This amalgam mixture goes where it goes,
More often than not winds up in a nose,
The act incites a sneeze and ejection once more,
Before the dust once again settles to the floor.
And then the dust will once again find flurry,
When disturbed from an object again in a hurry,
A cycle it will find it is sure to repeat,
The return to the air, a gift from ones' feet.
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A time ago your soul was clouded
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Do you see, up there, by the light,
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Bunny bunny,
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