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Mull Around Inside My Head
In the early morning hours
when the world is still in bed,
I come downstairs and make a cup of coffee
while my thoughts mull around inside my head.
I think of things I would like to happen
making little sketches if they did,
smile at how I could create a perfect world for me.
I think of my friends
who maybe worlds apart
and how I could be closer to them.
The scenarios I think of
I know will never be,
they are just in my thoughts
that mull around inside my head.
30 November 2008
poem
by
David Harris
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