Some days it feels like I am staring at myself.
I turn around suddenly, trying to catch myself at it,
But I always seemed to have looked away just in time.
It's maddening. And I have built a neighborhood
Inside of my neighborhood to house my guilt.
There's room for your guilt, too. Life is funny that way,
Like dozens of clowns spilling out of a tiny car.
Time is a pendulum, no it isn't, yes it is. Now
I have to go, it's time for me to learn the secret.
Or not.
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