February 24, 2009
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It's finally over, we have our diplomas.
Fits quite right in the palm of my hand.
Hits a home run when it's
my turn to walk the stage.
Wits full of courage feels like warm golden sand.

Pen strokes on paper give.
When we say goodbye to our friends and wish good luck.
Hen must let her chick go, and prosper.
Men no longer duckling but duck.

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