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These Lines

All I see is lines,
Straight lines,
Not changing,
Just like my life,
But that'll change,
Right after this is done.

I will be a millionaire,
My paintings hanging everywhere.
They’ll look easy,
But when people attempt to paint it, they’ll wonder why they tried.
People will be tongue tied,
For there is not a word,
For something so fantastic,
Ugly?
That’s absurd.

Now look at me already,
Who have I become?
What do you see?
An immodest man?
A vain human?
This is what I want,
But not want to be.

Change is a big word,
But it’s something I need.
What else is going to change these monotonous lines?
Change is on its way indeed.
But it will not change me.

Then what will these straight lines become?
A circle symbolizing life?
Zig-zags symbolizing change?
Polka-dots for confusion?
Or X’s for fusion?
Or will they remain vertical lines?
Because this is the life I love,
This is the life I treasure.
Peaceful like a dove,
A life no one can measure.

All I see is lines,
Straight lines,
Not changing,
Just like my life.
Who knows if that will differ?
Who knows where I’ll go?
But for now these lines are a comfort,
They’re what I call home.



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