Stuff

I often have things to pass me
for being stuck inside my thinking
I forget the little things
piled up on me heavy I'm sinking.

My house is a closet of stuff
I haven't decided to discard or keep
so many things I haven't gotten around to
for the thinking and the sleep

I do so well
the wasting of the time
and I'm sick of being this way
being so stuck here in my mind.

People often ask me why
I choose to be alone and I sigh
for not knowing why
I watch as life passes by...

I say I like it this way
and I only smile
just another minute with its stuff
thrown on top of the pile.
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