A.
Thoughts race like bullets in this mess-
so fast, my mind grows weary.
Slideshows are dimly cast and shown,
each image, each thought: your face.
When the needle breaks right through,
my thoughts float back to you.
Distracted by the mess I've made
it's haunting and inspiring:
The blind man sees though nothing shows;
he urges me to scream aloud.
Though flowers among weeds just grew,
I still run back to you.
B.
Unsure of what is fact or fiction
but eager for a cure,
I hastily begin my search for truth
and it all floats back to you.
To save my mind and change this life,
I've become old and justified.
And I tell myself it's not my truth,
but I still run back to you.
C.
Tomorrow I'll care a little more,
and soon it will become too much.
When dreams become stronger than life itself,
[you know what I will do....]
I'll fall right back to you.






(I know, I’m weird and a hypocrite). I love this poem so much, such beautiful emotions here that make me feel so happy and calm. Really wonderful job here, a stunning result.







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