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Knowing My Mind


Late afternoon,
My bed, two alien beings,
The slithering continues.
Those shadows on the wall,
Those hushed up breaths,
Those half-controlled passions
Of love that is yet to bloom…
Afternoon turns into evening,
I, in a pre-conscious sleep,
Try to distract my mind.
Mind is a cunning little fool.
It is the ugly old tool
That builds up these thoughts.
Keep them away.
Try to cleanse that workspace-
That old mind of yours.
No…It doesn’t take orders…
It has a world of its own…
The noises carry on
The breaths get faster…
Even my mind keeps pace…
The aliens seem so real,
They seem like friends so near,
There remains no tear nor fear…
And the purgation is never to come.

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