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My mind is wasted
well, out of sync
I can't keep up with the thoughts
that would be brought over seas
of consciousness, like weeds of mind
rooted in so deep , they bury themselves
in to the back of my eyes
and I'm always concerned about
running out of time
one thing after another
like some premature adolescent
I scream "why, **** why?"
I'm confident but I'm tired all the time
if you feel the same then don't be shy
I can't give you the answers
I can't sell you the time
but I can suggest a solution;
don't give up, don't die
.
.
.
Not just yet

— The End —