The days are long
The years fly by
Days and nights merge
Into the endless question,
The so-what of it all
Meaning, just what is it we
See, what do we think
We see?
I am not one
Of those morbid, despairing types,
Half the time, when I gaze around,
I understand
What I am seeing,
Or I think I do
Even though half the time
What my brain says I’m seeing
Makes no sense to me,
And the other
Half the time I don’t have a clue,
But no matter
When the algebra of this madness
Unwinds into my consciousness,
I just think to myself that I want to
Go for a coffee with someone I love
Beyond expressing.
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