A song that I have invited Tilehurst Children's Arkestra to use ..
I experience a standard angst,
My misery is measured.
It surfaces for time to time,
Even when well-leisured.
I have no muse to lift my soul,
No escape from despair.
The words I drag forth from my pen,
Are quite a leaden fare.
I'm hard to spot within a crowd,
My blandness hides me well.
Our differences all fade to grey,
A human storm, a swell.
I sort my woes like butterflies,
And pin them in a grid.
Their drab and unattractive shapes,
Are things I cannot rid.
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