Listen to poem:
At Wit's End
Wit's rope-end is frayed
tie a knot and hold on tight
let courage take flight—
to vault past sly cleverness
to where faith and belief steer.
Surrender, you're lost!
find the hidden key within—
to door swinging out
well beyond wit's tattered edge,
past the brink, no hand-holds left.
Wit's end leads off map
there's no compass bearing there!
It's over the cliff—
with hands lifted off the wheel,
and wind at your back, steering!
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