Cluttered

Standard

Every time I try to be honest 
All the things I planned come to an end
With a single line of luck in one hand
No one knows what strikes me inside

Poems reflect who I am
But most of the time it shows who I wish I was
The only means where I am true
Tends to cover up the reality I dwell in 

Broken lines, 

rhyming words,

stories shared, 

LIFE uncovered

Endless means,
Limited space

Dreams and thoughts all collide.

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