The tortoise and the hare,
It’s a story that I heard From a child. And I have tried both. I have raced for the finish line. And I have done my best to be steady In the endless pursuit of more. But the race itself seems to imply That what I have is not enough, That I must rely upon my wits, My inward tortoise or my hare. But what if I am already rich And do not need the prize? What if it’s enough To be rich inside my mind? And what if every little thing I need An unseen hand, had promised to supply. Well, then that would be a different story, wouldn’t it.
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