Too tall to know,
too small to see.
Too impatient,
to ever be free.
The escape hides,
and none will seek.
All who wonder,
lie too weak.
A silver-gold path,
to show my way.
If only. if only,
I knew night from day.
A nickle, a dime,
either way I've done time,
because of my crime,
to love too divine.
For I, so simple,
live a life of regret.
For I, so anxiously,
tend to forget.
"Life is but a dream," they say,
and I live in a dream everyday.
Now can those who hear my words,
understand my thoughts in thirds?
That, my friends, is how I see.
That, my friends, is how my mind talks to me.
It tells me what I wish to hear,
and that is what I often fear.
Does anyone ever see me there?
See me wishing to go somewhere?
For I, so awful, wishy-wash,
lose focus on reality.
For I, so awfully awfully lost,
don't know when I am being me.
For I, so tall,
never know.
For I, so small,
never see.
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