
Writing

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A Tree
I talked to a tree just the other day, I was walking past and it did say,
Well, what are you?Just a traveler.
But what are you?
Why, a human, of course, you didn’t know?
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Clouds
Each of you fluffy white
clouds
each of the shapes inspire me I look up into you
and feel small and big at the same time
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It's spring again
It's spring again
It's sunny again
It's green and flowers are taking over again
It's warm and the birds are singing again
It's spring again
Everything is coming out of hibernation again
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what you become
I’m a blank sheet, a book unwritten,
A sponge, as dry and brittle as the desert,
ready to soak up my surrounding,
no matter what it is, no biases,
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for a moment
I’m so busy now,
Even when I’m not, I’m busy,
Online, scrolling mindlessly, thoughtlessly,
Deeper and deeper into the well,
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Chicago Audition
I used to walk into a theater and it was salvation.
Stage lights and people who filled up a room,
I was happy to watch them for hours.
I wanted to become some part of that
some part of the instant admiration