Changed My Mind
A Fallen Try
Shadowed Love
Not So Good
A Stranger in Me
Poetry Poem
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The Group
They set in paperback chairs,
Mourning their own private deaths.
Each one quite unaware,
That none are at their best.
Too bad, so sad, gone mad.
Some are dead and living,
Some are living dead.
None know what they're giving,
None heard what was said.
Too bad, so sad, gone mad.
Minds a constant whirl,
Turning ‘round and ‘round.
Shapes turn into girls,
Crumble to the ground.
Each his own direction,
Stumble on his way.
Trying for correction,
Living for just today.
A mind, so fine, yet blind.
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