Do I truly see myself through my own?
I wonder what it would be like to be in someone else's mind
Do their thoughts race around one hundred miles like mine?
Am I abnormal, witty, or even a bit divine?
Differentiating the world, is a habit I hold.
Under my hazel eyes, and my hair like frizzy gold
that is where it lies,
the storage of my abstract mind.
May 29, 2011
May 29, 2011 at 12:59 PM UTC
Do I truly see myself through my own?
I wonder what it would be like to be in someone else's mind
Do their thoughts race around one hundred miles like mine?
Am I abnormal, witty, or even a bit divine?
Differentiating the world, is a habit I hold.
Under my hazel eyes, and my hair like frizzy gold
that is where it lies,
the storage of my abstract mind.
Request permission to use this poem