I mean, what should i compose,
I mean, what should i think.
Sometimes, past or the future i talk of,
Some new experience or old reminder i talk of.
Oldies and or older yet tenures,
Presently pretending to be
pre-matures,
Mistaken ignorance that laid their presence,
Till now stick glue to overwhelming knowledge.
Shaked hands, things remembered,
Flow with time, with time on pace.
Things shared, things thrown,
Onto the store of belated acquaintance.
Things go beyond time, they do,
So, they do with the things they do.
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