what if i were a goat climbing up on a steep hill
not doing it because i can see grass on the landing
not doing it because i promised someone i could
not doing it because i think i will know once i reach there
what if i were a kid taking pleasure getting bruised
not because i know it will heal
not because i expect a warm and soothing voice
not because i want to look rough
And my mind wanders among dark landscapes
i try to make sense of my surroundings
but things never quite remain the same for me
how will i get out of here? where are the clear blue skies?
and what if this was poetry?
poetry of a retarded mind..
by now i'm quite sure this was nonsense
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