I suppose that I’m not crazy
But If I am I hope that you
will take time from your busy day
and try to help me make it through
to a point where I’ll recuperate
or at least one where I’ll understand
the truth of my malignant fate:
my life was written in the sand
My only hope, to wonder now
to cling to my failing cognizance
I’ll take the time to take a bow
and settle for indifference
But as your needle stabs me through
I wonder how this all makes sense
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