A Meal of Thoughts

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A Meal Of Thoughts

Strange days have found us,

Life seems to be oozing puss,

From a spot squeezed in your mind,

A finger to put it on you just can't find.

A moment of clarity is all that you need,

A meal of thoughts on which you can feed,

A moment of clarity is all that's there,

The morning dew makes you sit and stare.

To lose is the privilege of your soul,

A square circle fits, today, into a rounded hole,

In the twisted mire of personal conflict,

The demons on your shoulder do sit.

Giving sometimes is its own enemy,

You try, but winning seems empty,

Advantages are taken and you harden,

Into something, or into someone who cannot pardon.

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