My thoughts, dreams, plots and my schemes-- Ask what's on my mind when I'm wide awake in my SLEEP. Rest for the night, you have a long day ahead of you. But remember, tomorrow is not promised.
What is promised, though, is caged thinking. Caught between a pebble and a low-tide wave that eventually sweeps you away to sea. I've retreated to the pen to get my thoughts across; my anxiety has been channeled though the ink that stains this paper. And not all stains are immovable, but in this case, these stains are here to stay. Be careful to no go off of hear-say, instead have a listen to what I say: It's quiet in my mind, and the ringing doesn't stop.
Isn't the old saying "silence is golden" ? If so, why can't I see it's majesty?
Maybe silence is not for me, and hypocrisy is just my reality.
Shallow? Possibly.
Undefined matrimony to a phony.
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