Wake up serene.
Like a fresh sheet of paper
not a dot of an ink blot stain to hide.
Thank God cleanliness survived!
As the daylight heat burns on,
I start to feel the prickly sting,
so I start to sing... the familiar song.
The scale then tips,
once the words spill off my lips.
Where have I gone?
The echo strong.
Much beauty - there is
in being wrong.
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