Charlie Thomas

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Charlie Thomas
Tuesday 10 December 2019


Without equal standard, yet ye have not infinite hair. With your expressions, ye ask of my mind.
Repeat the opposites of what I enjoy; I whisper silently and sarcastically, in self disagreement.
Can I be understood when there are no ears? I cackle to the mental void.
Ye, made of titanium and we of dirty phosphor be knownest; does that not explain hatred? Thy jealousy fills silence.
My walk: I know ye hate and refuse. Thy refuge!
The very thing which enslaves, grants Majestic views.
Assuredly the views temp ye not. Ye hath not yet a body, and you bang on eternity.
There; I see a mirror in ye. Your radiation is certain. Through the wall ye pass: Invisible are ye!
I know you are aware. You think no more. Door.......There...... cJT


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