White Matter, What Matters

Apart

If I decompose now would I find my place?

If I am part of earth would I be lost in space?

Could I wander through time as if we were friends?

Would there be a beginning to a never ending end?

Is there a place where I’m not given a name?

Where destiny is not defined by fortune and fame?

Where the rest are disordered and I am sane?

Would I still have the unorganized brain?

Scattered, like the Mad Hatter, tired of the lazy insignificant chatter.

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Sounds with Meaning

What goes in…

Beaded words threaded through my head.

In and out, around the bend.

Absorbing stories and diction,

Making my life some kind of fiction.

Inspired by written admiration,

Language has my forever adoration.

Filed inside.

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