| excessively_thinking | ||
| national hero |
One thinks too much. Too much and such. One creates a thought, a mood, a night. Only to get bored and write. My Favorite things by Coltrane is, not quite so nice as anything by Diz. My books which rest upon the shelf, just gather dust, and nothing else. My food which freezes, cold and packed, has company, I'm sure of that. My blathe, which began with no direction, Raises yet another question? What is that? Windows dark enclosed by moths, Smile and say "have a good night." They don't really want to talk to anybody for very long. Just look at things, and move along. |
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