On the platform at five
in the morning,
I feel like I am on a stage.
The play is a continuum,
and I, a spectator looking at things,
under the light of this beaming sky.
The trash and drivel are props,
and there are trains,
because once in a while,
people like to go back home.
This play is omnipresence.
The alleys, the toilets,
all shadows, and corners
it suffuses all.
I'm looking at my mind,
like a volcano looking at it's
own fire.
My insomnia is eating me up,
and I own a journey,
It takes me home.
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