**Through the Distorting Lens of Folly**
The day was clean, as clean as a newborn’s tears,
I bought myself a microscope;
To study the world, its truths, its fears,
And fill my heart with hope.
Yet soon I found, in idle thought,
My mind would rather wander far,
To magnify each trivial spot,
And fret where no woes are.
A speck of dust upon the pane,
Became a mountain steep;
A whispered word, a passing stain,
Would haunt my waking sleep.
Oh, foolish heart, to magnify,
The small and fleeting woe;
To make of gnats a stormy sky,
And set the winds to blow.
The kettle’s whistle, sharp and shrill,
Was trumpet call to arms;
A creaking door, a specter’s will,
Sent forth its false alarms.
Yet nature speaks in softer tones,
The brook, the quiet glen;
She bids us leave our fretful moans,
And walk with peace again.
O cast aside the glass that bends
Each trivial thing to fear;
For life will soothe, and time will mend,
The woes that seem so near.
The day is clean, as clean as a newborn’s tears,
No need to search for strife;
Let simple joys, through passing years,
Be magnified in life.
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