Something will happen, some things will
Occur, and day will come in the middle
Of the night, the hour of the beginning
For clocks and a great many offspring.
Something will happen, and this will be
Yesterday, this which is already always
The past, even today. Some things will
Occur to turn the pale blue dot caught
In the slingshot embrace of a humble star,
And some things will say that this is new,
This is a brand new day. Why? Because
Other things, including a great many beings,
Awfully graciously, by then will have gone away.
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