SITTING IN LIMBO
SITTING IN LIMBO
"What time is it?" Decades has passed..
I'm always the idiot, sleeping in limbo..
as time tickles, the river flows, seasons come and go, flowers flower and whither.The
birds keep singing sweet melodies to the rainbow sky above.
I sit at that place where many rivers cross each other, there I shall always be, flowing with the rivers, singing with the birds, lapsing in limbo. I'm a handicap, crippled from birth.
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