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Oct 2017
Note: Dedicated to all that struggle with impossible thoughts


And I decay, decay, decay, decay…

It’s wasteful for me to sit, I think.
So long, so frequent, so young, so sick.
As language fails,
Time prevails,
And I decay, decay, decay, decay…

The birds don’t care, that’s for sure.
Carry on good birds! Spare no thought for...
My life! My soul! My mood! My needs!
Your life's all mapped out. Mother Nature’s decree.

It’s wasteful for me to dream, I think.
So light, so free, so sparse, so quick,
As thoughts go unsaid,
I choose sleep, choose bed,
And I decay, decay, decay, decay…

Hello Autumn, what do you bring with you today?
Another years ending? Leaves that won’t stay?
Goodbye’s are hard, well that’s universally true,
But hello’s are beautiful! You bring those too.

It’s wasteful for me to think, I think.
So much, so hard, so bleak, so deep.
My days…
they come, they blend, they pass
And I decay, decay, decay, decay...

Oh old stars, give me a sign.
You exist, but how?! From where do you shine ?
You’re impossible, wonderful, present and true,
I’m here! I can see you! Do you see me too?
Michael Priestley
Written by
Michael Priestley  23/M/Colliers Wood, SW London
(23/M/Colliers Wood, SW London)   
  832
     ConnectHook, winter sakuras and Lily X
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