Churning thoughts

World gazing.

It appears, as if I have been at this for days in.

In a trance, so advance.

In spite of my insight,

it has me overwhelmed to the point  that my pleasure may yet be misread by my cognitives.

For it is in a sense morbid.

A plain of shade, marooned away.

Only my misery,

to keep me company.

Leading with my calling card;

all smiles.



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