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Alone with my thoughts
I sit in my room, counting numbers.
All alone, all alone.
My hairs a mess, as it always is
When I’m alone in my room
Counting numbers, fifty three… fifty four
My eyes are green as usual. When will there
Pigment fade away to grey?
I tear my feelings apart.
My mind interrogates my heart.
My soul can’t count to four.
Why didn’t I lock the door?
Alone I am, lonely I am not.
I have a pile of thoughts.
All of whom don’t know me yet.
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Favorite Quote:
“A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself.” Abraham Maslow.