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There is something I wish to write about
Too much of everything that I feel
The something that slipped away
Entangled in the shackles of everything

Constant - On the go
Wish I could take it slow
Busy - Is Happy I know

Hours , they are limited
Jobs too many
Mastering one , never ever intend

But ,
There is something that I wish to write
About , Everything
Yet ,
Nothing is what I Write

Imperfection is the place where I truly belong
Happily ,
Until the end
I shall  sing this song
.

You can see I am a stranger
but you are in no danger.

If you only took
the time to look

into my pale blue eyes
you would then realise

I Am a stranger

to myself.



© Pagan Paul (10/09/18)
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