He found solace in play of words,
As he butchered hope's tiny birds.
He lost himself in the war of words,
As he buried all his mind's swords.
From one insanity to another,
He falls like a broken feather.
His mind runs a thousand times,
On the thought, which eternally rhymes.
Caught in his own mind's treason,
He appears to be single person,
But each moment his is many,
Alas the next moment he isn't any.
His moods swing from left to right,
As his thoughts, he sits to write.
His thoughts jump from right to left,
Until sleep makes his mind's theft .
|Me vs Myself|
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