100 Forms of Poetry: #68 Prose

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My Mind

The middle of the day so much to do wondering which comes first like a sunrise on a summer morning or snowfall layering the world in white, moving through the motions going from one to the next without finishing anything and starting nothing, finding pieces of the puzzle and making them fit only to walk away because a piece is missing, hoping to put the stamp on something but realizing nothing seems worth it, muddled thoughts that go in so many directions but go nowhere at all, my mind.

©2024 CBialczak

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