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I am changing,
throwing away memories and rearranging.

The past becomes faded so Im planning futuristic events,
been thinking about this,
correcting my mistakes you see im trying to make sense,
on how the world works and why the earth spins,
Kind of comparing mistakes to dumb decisions.

I am changing don't watch just listen,
read the words I think I figured out that they are gifted,
pause for a minute......
sparks light the dark and now the inspirations kickin.

And still I am changing before it all falls down,
worlds full of false pretentious and upon us society frowns,
just a couple thoughts can you hear me changing now?

Looking in the mirrors image and I see little workers remodeling,
taking back their property and I crack a smile so happily,
as they remold I feel relief,
similar to the times I wished that god would set me free,
flashbacks of all the fighting harming no others only me.

Came this far and many say I am crazy,
like he just young and going through phases,
like my words are worthless or im just faking,
but I believe I have a gift so im just waiting.

Admit I have a few problems, but I swear im changing.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
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Editing stage: 


plus, there is a profundity in the idea
"comparing mistakes to dumb decisions."

Neopoet Directors

... is spot on. You do have a gift for a semi paradoxical phrase and those that are uniquely descriptive. Keep writing. wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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