Digital drawing · Life · meloncholia · poetry

Days on end

Where to begin,

When my life wanted none to start on.

Where did I go wrong,

Was I even right when my life was born,

Was it on a Thursday too many times since

I have loved all those cutie pies in what my right 

Could hang on to.

Yet my left didn’t want no more to think

Rather spend time time more than

Keep a picture of a memory 

What this mind can not let go off.

A verse of old told me to be in a world of word

I may be of,

Where I can be in. . .

To begin to free my verse within and to start

Using any medium to begin a form in my mind,

Do get the beast loose,

So this mind can mine the fuel the beast’s behind;

And long after the lustful ways of my heart which  what it wants most,

Knowingly using the wisdom of experience and what it left behind as the

Model of my life.

Nonetheless I will begin,

Where my life ended when it started loving the awareness of all

Its nightmares and dreams of what mine,

Can be of and not without only within I saw that third,

Never closed and partially blind.

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