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THE INNER FEELING

In which they are hidden
There’s no power of healing
The things that are forbidden

A little, tiny, very small
Peeking through the wall
Short, not very tall
The most whimsical of us all

Power we cannot see
The ghastly things are up for a walk
The prisoners are we
Suddenly we’re not able to talk

A dried fiend,
A false end,
At least it can make us understand

All the faces we won’t see
All the places in which we cannot be
For all, we can’t make ourselves free



WORDS SPELLED IN SILENCE

Out of the blue
Able to think about blue eyes
And blue water
Able to hear
Words that were spelled in silence.

No matter what you can see
Listen to yourself
Towards the belief
Of the words
that were spelled in silence.

Out of the blue
Completely out of place
My character, the spirit is slowly changing
Because of the words
that were spelled in silence.



CALLED BY THE NAME OF A QUEER GOTH
I'm still the same
Quite whimsical
Still that curious thing
Still the same
Called by the name
Of a queer goth.

Clearly the one
Quite disappointing
That whimsical thought
Distinctly dark and somber
Still the same
The one to blame
Wherefore I'm called by the name
Of a queer goth.

It's me, you'd see, even before
Peeking through the door,
It's me you are looking for
I know who I am;
I'm aware of it all.

Quite hopeless
Still not very amusing
Still the same
Called by the name
Of a queer goth.



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