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Each day filled with blessings though we swear we’re cursed;
Focus on the gnat bites makes us just feel worse.
Morning the sun rises, all begin again,
Grasp bull by the horns and shout out, “Amen!”

Obstacles lie before us cluttering our path,
Power to rise above them firmly in our grasp.
Wallow in self pity or command our fate;
Deus ex machina solution is second rate.

Trials and tribulations will end us all,
Spit in eye of grim reaper, stand ever tall.
Same fate awaits us whether we are mice or men,
Solution is our struggle, says koan of zen.

No answer to riddle as doubt riddles us:
Struggle is a blessing though it seems a curse.

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