That One

You hide, inside
A solitude of your own mind
A place devoid, divided, devised
Of hopeless hoping
Of moody, mellow, moping.
You hide, deep inside
Your mind
A cave of your own creation
Where it’s spacious
And there is nothing but time
To run out of
To run out on
You’re clicking and clacking
And believing your own quackery
It’s painful to see
You crack up
Right In front of me
You hide, inside
Because misery loves company
And folly, and melancholy.
Like twisted branches of Christmas holly
You feel misinformed
Deformed
Detached
Unattached
So you watch and wait
Because you gave up on praying
And think of it now as
Quaint little sayings
That keep you feeling safe
Or safer.
Maybe saner.
But you disdain it.
So you hide. Inside.
Your mind.
Where you are judge, jury and jailer
Living in
The safety net of your own failure

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