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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


I do not make sense anymore,
so I do as I please.
Have answers to everything.
A life that says,
I live here,
I am one of its prophets,
I have learned to know
in a certain way,
why things fly,
yell in my ears,
scream with silence.
Where things get lost
going somewhere,
and coming out
is going in,
depending where
we leave ourselves,
or how we knock
upon a door,
behind which no one left an answer.

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