In the night there is silence
In my mind there is screaming.
Thoughts left unfinished
Questions; unanswered.
My imagination is running wild
While my heart is pouring out its sentiments
With each new thought comes
A new idea
Springing to life like a tulip
In April
The idea brings a friend,
A question.
The question haunts,
Taunts my soul and tortures my mind
But I do not have the answer
So enters the particular melancholy
A feeling I know well.
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