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I'm fine.
I don't know why I feel compelled to write about the dark colored thoughts I have no reason to think.
What makes me want to cry?
Whats wrong with me?
I'm fine.
I should be letting the sunlight in my world into my soul.
Should.
Should.
Should.
I don't have a reason.
Nothing happened to me. Or anyone.
Im fine.
I should be skipping off into the sunset.
Letting my hair blow in the new born summer's breeze.
Running away from saddness. Skipping away.
Not looking for it.
Not embracing it.
I have every right to be happy.
Every right to write with ambience in my spirt.
And I have been.
And I will be.
But I'm not right now.
Whats wrong with me?
I'm fine.
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I'm Fine
We know we should, we know we should be happy. But we're just fine. No reason for it no reason against it. I'm fine.
I liked your piece. I related to it. Reminded me of my best friend. I'm fine.
Thank you. Im glad you like
Thank you. Im glad you like it :)
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
~Robert Frost
Thank you. Im glad you like
Thank you. Im glad you like it :)
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
~Robert Frost