turmoil tumble-dries driftwood
inside this minecraft mind,
set on satisfaction;
thoughts like deviating chinese whispers
swirl this snowstorm,
brewing a broken brouhaha of
flotsam and jetsam,
turning symphony cacophonous,
a scream in a beautiful dream,
for all the world
a storm in a handle-less teacup,
no pick-me-up,
hanging in the balance,
unseen.
As one who has recently been dragged unwillingly into a depressed mode - first time ever (and reactive stuff) - I think I understand your words a little more...
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Anna :o] (or maybe :o[)
all the owrld a storm in a handle-less cup....ha...i like that line...at times it seems...though the storms bring rain which brings life...they can also be quite devastating....
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