A thought that persists
And deviates too much towards sanity,
That it's in a right angle
With my ever present morality.

Strong sense of grounding
Pulling me towards the roots of gravity,
And whisks my neck,
But I'm too immune to spontaneity.

Am I too right-handed
In my right side brain and my frivolity,
And when I gravitate,
I fall too fast from the towers of insanity.*


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