Maybe, I don’t know myself enough, After all. Everytime I get a bit of free time, I find myself plastered on to a wall! Trying to decide what to do, Where to go, And, Why? Without a reason ever coming to my mind… But, Here I am! Walking down the Lower East Side, Until I’m flattened by upsetting thoughts I couldn’t iron out with my, Self. My inner-child hanging on an edge, On the shelf, Where I placed him while I navigate through a Hell, I’m worried he’ll get burnt by while I tell, Our story… It’s what I’d rather do, Besides pressing into the wrong kind of button. A uniform I despise when I should be cutting, Into emotions of another… I’ll walk all night, Or, Run if I have to, Until I can’t anymore, While I write another poem that’s past due! I don’t know anything else, Other than my love for poetry. No matter where I go, It’s… What God keeps showing me…
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