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Månadens poet: Nicole Tagliati


Oh I just love being alone, the stimulation I withhold

Concurrent scapes of black holes

I come to turn, I turn toe, tipping to you for social desirability

Spent time is an infliction of loss

My grief, anxiety and pungent mind targets have grown gross

Complete, oh ohe

Really qualifies inner qualities that desperately want to play are in hide and seek with one solemn character playing the game

My thoughts are un-un-understandable, irregular, compelling and creative

Could I please order a human with whom I am allowed to discuss freely or will thee also be a judge?

I will continue to play- alter games when I get bored

And spiral down or gently, consciously to be honest, climb down and disappear

Then I will have the credibility a few short seconds, never satisfied today

Will my mind ever accomplish?

Will and wit want I will understand

Count me in

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