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The wagon
I pushed a wagon through a muddy road
I pushed and I pulled all for naught
The wagon did not move nor did it stir
Its rear wheels stack in the murky mire
I withdraw thinking...
This wagon did not want to see the truth
This is why it will never change course or move
A wagon is a wagon
It trots the roads or be dragged on
It lives its life and endures its truth
It is only me
From whom the truth may hide
This plain truth engraved on a rock
Yet boggles taunts and tantalize in a mock
copy rights 2010
poem
by
Isaac Ziv
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