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    I
    met a grain of wheat, stored in a siloAsked him what his experience, how he'd grow
 He said, "going up and down this silo meeting many a face."
 Going up and down, all he knew, all his experience.
 I met a friend, asked him about
    his job,For his livelihood, himself of life would rob
 For twelve years, met many people playing the same game
 Six months of fresh experience, then repeating the same;
 Learning nothing new, the same life repeating again and again
 In the silo of his job, going up and down like a grain.
 © Shahriar ShahriariVancouver, Canada
 June 30, 1997
 
       
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