Poem: Compass


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I have a plan;
Get this, get that
I have a plan;
Do this, do that
I have a plan;
Say this, say that
Oh how crooked it is,
That my plans have plans
Ones that change my routes
Even though in awesomeness I thought I had plans
Howbeit, this new route be good for me
For my soul rests
Even tossing and turning with the new routes
One I detest but seem to enjoy
Navigating me like a magnetic force
With cardinal directions and pointers
To an angle that would satisfy.

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