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Late night sirens and cheap
microwave popcorns,
an empty Chardonnay
and mounting bills
Why am I always in
this myself?
My mind racing
am I counting worries
by sugar teaspoons?
Frantically cleaning the
cemented floor to rub
of the coffee stains.
Will I ever make it? Is
the question many are
asking but why I be the one?
I smile and sing rhymes
longing for some
praise, after-all it’s
not a crime. Fears and
worries linger but
there is hope but
hope is dangerous and
uncertainty too sneaky.
Shall I make the first move
but It might never work.
Let me smile and just
keep it to myself.
No I’m not an open book.
I will throw fake smiles
at your placid jokes offer
an icy kiss but I rather be
a mystery and be by myself.