#2155-Sealed

Thoughts,

Happily playing around,

In my congested mind.

Yet I know,

It is nothing but conjecture,

And grains of sand.

Still,

I see the game,

I so often play.

When my world spins,

Not feeling I belong,

In my own skin,

I withdraw into me.

Abstract thoughts,

Will run their course,

Until the little boy is ready,

To once again open,

Those tightly shut,

Bright steel doors.

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#2156-Discernable

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#2154-Found