Come with me, forget your troubles,
we'll have a stroll and blow some bubbles.
The unpredictable little floaty things,
these delicate soldiers of charm and cheer.
chancing your existence to take to the skies and soar, knowing all too well that your safety is uncertain.
and you'll glide forward to ascend with the courage of conviction, and where would Summer be without the chance of blowing bubbles?
For we are all very much like huddling bubbles,
varying in shapes and sizes, iridescent in our own extraordinary ways, and as delicate as human flesh tends to be.
If you are shackled by sadness, fear, insecurity or doubt,
take note from the will of the floaty little orb.
For the bubble knows that life can be most of froth,
but all the world is well worth the journey.
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