Rippling Reflections

Infinite the truth that is birthed from the past planted
-Seeds.
I’m tired of these.
-Circles.
I’m bored, Stubborn.
The presented flowers
loose colour.
 
When i go to my place..
of truth.
It all feels untrue,
Fake.
A modified me.
Made to feel, given meaning.
I’m meaning less
and less.
 
Really
I’m still.
Rippling, dancing
Looking at reflections.
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