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What becomes of an idle mind?
Devoid and left destitute, of deathly
deterrence, deferred into the domicile dirigible?
Stayed and stood, still strung strongly
along steadfast plow and stunted sow.
Wary watch and wryly wooed whittling
earned from weakness within oneself.

What left does there exist
within an idle mind?
Express what once betwixt,
within the minutes now behind.
Inspired by Langston Hughes' poem, Dream Deferred.
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December 14, 2009
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