Just. Thinking.

There’s this thing I do
It’s called thinking

I imagine things yet to come
Things that have passed by
Wondering about both, if they’ll ever make friends
One rules out the other, but we could always try

I picture views in my head
Of nature and man’s stupidity
What could be done to degrade degradation
What could save the world–and save me

I think of the people I’ve met
Ones I’ve lost
Ones I’ve gained
Guessing who would last for how long
Guessing who’d slowly grow away
Not from fights, but just because of life
One day I’ll wake up to realize that they’re gone

Darkness at night amplifies all these
What could I do to climb out of this abyss?

Then again… how could I stop thinking?

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