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A quiet place where it's safe to be. Where no one moves or speaks or looks. You're not alone, But not invaded. There is never a problem. Never a trouble. Maybe you'll like it there. Prehaps you could stay. But first you'd have to leave here, And often that's easier thought than done. Your head is a lake, filled to the top up. You can feel the weight of the water on your weakening shoulders, And see its depths, and feel it movings, as you grow stormy from within.
0
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 4:25 AM UTC
The Quiet
A quiet place where it's safe to be. Where no one moves or speaks or looks. You're not alone, But not invaded. There is never a problem. Never a trouble. Maybe you'll like it there. Prehaps you could stay. But first you'd have to leave here, And often that's easier thought than done. Your head is a lake, filled to the top up. You can feel the weight of the water on your weakening shoulders, And see its depths, and feel it movings, as you grow stormy from within.
marigold
Written by
New Zealander
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 4:25 AM UTC
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