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Your Thoughts

are a cabinet.
Surrounded by these shelves,
I am inquiry itself.
For you to say don’t touch, don’t think
Is asking a song not to sing.
Commanding my ballad, flowing and sweet
To stay an array of marks on a sheet.
To never be free and reach your ears,
That’s what you are requesting here.
If you ground this melody,
You will do the same to me.
You’ll never reach the benefit
That comes from my discovery.




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