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Delusional

A tight knit room

all the fog, all the gloom

gasses start to swirl and dance

putting all that witness,

in a trance

 

vision fogs, body tingles

in a room, no one mingles

the world is fading at last

its all spinning and moving

way too fast

 

Here I come,

here I come,

to the land of the free

and the numb.

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Written by
archetypes-anonymous
Published
Feb 10, 2014
Lines·Words
14·62
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