Silence doesn’t necessarily mean detachment
I sense things sometimes, that might be true, maybe not
Thoughts, permanently in my brains ‘Pending Tray’
Maybe I’m right, maybe it’s all innocent
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m paranoid
From time to time, I pick up those same thoughts
Wrestle with them for a while, draining energy
True, False, Relevant, Irrelevant, Important, Unimportant
I remain undecided as to where to file these thoughts
Then tiredly, I place them back in the ‘Pending Tray’
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