Everything I see,
Turns into ideas.
Poems, paintings,
Music, art.
My life is full,
Unfinished.
Drafts everywhere.
Surrounded by
Undone paintings.
I Sometimes
Have to,
Clean it all up.
Delete, Erase,
Rip apart.
So you can go now.
I don't need you,
You're a
Worthless idea.
It's all
Worthless
Anyway

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