s u i c i d e b y t h o u g h t
All that I am is suspect today.
Shade over my lone sundial.
Close approximations of 'joy,
now wondering if then it ever was.
Don't wanto to look at my picked face,
don't want to feel my stomach sink.
Shade over my lone sundial.
I've lost the time.
I've lost the time.
I'm tired of having my mind attacked.
They treat me as if I have no sense.
When what I am is suspect today,
should have closed my mouth,
never opened my mouth.
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