Untitled

Beg now the winds

To send changes Blowing

For it is nowhere still

That I feel I'm going

Spoiled and rude

This attitude

But with all the distance

In running around

It is frustrating to find

I cross the same ground

The days will pass

No matter what the crime

As I commit the felony

Of wasting my time

8/31/95 2 a.m.

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