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May 1
Falling more and more
Into the depths
Of my inner-world
Where depression reigns,
Where there is no relief,
Where the darkness
Is all consuming,
Where my heart turns to stone,
Where it aches and bleeds,
Where l am a prisoner,
Where I am nothing.
Any substance, only faked
Intuituve intelligence
Ha! Whoever heard of such a thing?
I must have made that up
To cover for my glaring inadequacies.
I fooled them though...
Even had a Geophysics professor
Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana
Talking to me.
He thought I was refreshing.
Wow, what a treat.
Wow, me refreshing?
What a joke.
I am anything but resfreshing...
I am a joke...
I am a fairly well accomplished woman with major insecurities.  I felt I had an intuitive sense about me and later it became intuitive intelligence.  At the ripe old age of 76, my intelligence is in major remission it seems.  Thus the poem.
Written by
elsiesan  76/F/Indiana
(76/F/Indiana)   
132
 
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