Going through your mind,
And if you can, swim right through the thoughts,
And there is nothing you will find,
But the trough in which those images flow,
As they meander in your unique way,
And tour your body, sometimes eddying,
And returning to your thoughts one day.
That's all there is, nothing more,
You're the same thoughts, again and again.
Don't try to damn them up, it won't work,
But to destroy personal relations.
Make no excuse,
You're a product of your own terrain,
Not created by you, but where you live,
Your own unique, impenetrable brain.
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