Someone once was thirsty
But nothing could quench his soul
So he dug around in loose sand
Then found a water hole
So he drank to his heart's content
A little more at times
He drank every lonesome hour
Until his bones felt moist inside
But every man must go on-
And so he left one night.
The hole reflected stars nomore
As nothing was left inside.
Since then every passerby,
Had stood near and laughed
Called the hole- dirty, impure
With filthy mud, creatures inside.
"But someone out there-
Could go on now," thought the hole
The man with the moist bones
Who drank from the purest soul!
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