My Mind

My mind keeps spinning round and round
With every kind of thought and song and sound,
A whirling dirvish that touched down and then again leaves the ground
With muses that confuse
Songs that difuse
And ideas of a ruse
I'm sick of spinning with my mind always astray
I'm so dizzy I feel gray
I think I need to pray
As my mind turns so fast it could fray.





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