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The Things I'm Looking At

By Bruce Clifford

I think I'm getting tired
There's so little left in me
My desire runs empty
I turn to the sea

I think I'm getting weary
My mind is out of place
There are rules I can live by
But I choose to replace

I see the sun, but it's the same as you would see
I see the stars, but I see each light so differently
My orange might be your yellow and my blue might be your green
The things I'm looking at are not exactly what you would see

I know I get so tired
My heart can't find it's place
Today I live in the shadows
Tomorrow we will trace

I know I'm getting frightened
Paranoid to the touch
Now I look for answers
And a dream I could hold and clutch

I see the sun, but it's the same as you would see it
I see the stars, but I see each light so differently
My orange might be your yellow and my blue might be your green
The things I'm looking at are not exactly what you would see

My circle might be your square and my black might be your white
The things I'm looking at are not exactly what you would like

©4/29/05 Bruce Clifford  

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