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jsonstein@masto.deoan.org ("Jeff Sonstein") wrote:
The broom sweeps the floor, swish-swish left and righ
Collecting the crumbs from the snacks of the night.
As I gather the dust, my thoughts drift away,
To dreams big and bright, and a new kind of day.
The laundry awaits, with its mountains to climb,
Sorting out colors, it happens each time.
Folding and stacking, each shirt and each sock,
Feels like quite the task, a nine-to-five block.