Once there was a log
Floating downstream
On a swift-flowing river
Towards a sawmill.
And, on that log,
Perched on a loose patch of bark,
Behind a broken limb,
There was an ant.
The ant didn’t know about the sawmill.
He did not hear the rushing water.
He couldn’t tell the size of the log,
Or perceive the danger he was in.
On that piece of bark,...
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