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Jan 2019
The sound of a knock
The ring of a clock,
Is what’s steady in my conscience.
I feel lost in time
My Key of logic, declined,
All I have is a key that reads nonsense.
I’m Not Verbal nor combative
Thoughts of myself, a tummy of laxatives,
I’m always alone I can’t lean on the fence.

One side was the sun but It comes with the rain, my side rains and pours but no light comes my way.

Wish I could be the tide, living is boring, I’ll just lay and I’ll sleep, I hope my heart will stop the snoring.
Written by
Scarred Dopamine
277
 
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