Why do we experience, experiences, experienced?
Why do we feel, feelings, felt?
Why do we dream, dreams dreamed
Why we think, things, thought
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Ha..ha..ha..ha! It is indeed a perfect play of words. We all have played but never worked our words is such a poem. Enjoyed reading it. A soul is a soul, but not a sole... / A plane is a plane that my be plain / A play of words I played on you.
We must come to see what we must see when the comes come to become. A beautiful rigmarole of words. Thanks for sharing B.J.