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What is the truth, merely a reality one minute to the next aka snapping out of it
start writing-she said
as if she knew
about the contents
of her head
shave off pieces
of stars
motorway of answers
..... .. .... . ....running you down
like cars.. ....... ..
awkward
abstract
worry
not
of this
for a brain is well wired
deliberately
hit
and miss
scramble of words
and phrases
made up of whims and fancy
no logic
trip up mazes
difficult
to read
I haven't thought of
barrier of processing speed
just write anyway
for predictable order is a death of a sort
perfection
the hellish dull of absence of thought
no gaps to fill
nor need for more
(I've just heard there's Shetland Ponies at the farm... It's all I ever needed, I'm off, forget angst poetry ha!)
Copyright ©
Di11y Da11y
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