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Life cannot always be all hearts and flowers,

This mind of mine often overpowers,

So many tabs open inside this, the web browser,

By these tabs, I am devoured,

Growing just like wild flowers.

My brain is a messy hive,

Constant thoughts spinning on a vine.

It could be one o’clock when I start to write,

The next time, I stop, look at the clock,

Guess what? It’s three forty-five.

The space between all that time,

There is no sound,

No tick tock.

No clocks chime.

Unless you count the rattling that lives within my mind,

Working as usual, doing its overtime,

It’s not something that I have contrived,

Or anything that exists merely part-time,

It’s not just when I close my eyes,

Those beady little things be open wide.

What do you want to know? I don’t love myself that’s for sure,

But somehow, I always manage to pick myself up, off that floor,

A fight with myself it’s always a war,

Between what is right? What is wrong?

All these thoughts in my mind are sprung,

From things that have happened,

So, you could say I’ve learnt,

Many bridges burnt but,

No stone in this mind left unturned,

Assess everything a million times,

Before I come to my demise,

In these depths, I’m paralysed,

Hypnotised in my own mind,

Better stop,

Check the time,

Guess what? It’s four forty-five.