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I was in my room studying.
As I read over the text,
I threw down my books in disgust.

What more had they to offer me,
More practical knowledge?
What need have I for such?

I had already attained enough to sustain myself.
Nothing left to learn interests me,
My wit being keen on its own.

Alas, knowledge I seek
Cannot be found in such books,
Not even the good book itself.

Answers; to question that have
Plagued me all my life.
Who am I,
Where am I going,
What is my purpose?
I must know!

The one book that might enlighten me
Is always beyond my grasp.
That unwritten tome,
The unpublished novel,
The future…
©2006-2009 ~tmrevolver
:icontmrevolver:

Author's Comments

Merely some thoughts on life I scribbled down.

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September 5, 2006
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