Don't leave out the wonderful words
or morose depressions
or appealing metaphors
tell them all, away from extents
My mind connected a lot
of fictitious happiness
it might not happen
It's tormented and opaque
same tone, but I'm creating weariness
from destination points
I'm in prison for this day
when everything gave a heavy existence
I couldn't bare.
It doesn't sound nice because it doesn't have a tune.
I just want you to know because I want to know.
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