Screaming out so loud,
In a place where no one can hear you,
And then complaining, you're not found out?
With winter coming, you would think that the thought,
Of snow and sleet and bone-chilling cold,
Would have you thinking about important things,
Like succeeding before you get too old,
Like finding your voice before your voice goes,
And no one learns about the thoughts in your mind,
That without some kind of advertisement,
Is just simply impossible to find.
No, it's alright,
Forget I told you anything.
How you are's exactly how nature,
Told you to be.
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