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New World Vision

Mental Health Poetry 4

By FRANK? PiccolellaPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
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I am living a singular vision. It may not be my own vision. May not have ever met my vision master. Urged by some unseen force. It is time to dream of this New World Vision.

My thoughts are now above the clouds. Imagine as the planes up above slipstream you with a buzz into the serene stream of consciousness. Imagine not being able to trust yourself. Today could be the day you fall up into the sky.

Controlled burns can quickly clear the Thick. Growing quite tiresome from the weight of this inner turmoil and firestorm, it all turns to ash. My compass begins to wander.

I go inside my mind like an introspective detective. Have you ever gotten an acid contact high when it is near? I take a chance and open the door.

Quiet your mind. Open more than two eyes. Feel the real of the wheel of life. Can you see once more?

Channel all of my energy to take a step in the right direction. Push forward and stay off the floor. The floor is lava, from now till eternity.

My soul screams for more perfection. I arrive early to the New World proceedings. If there is only one decisive decision making to abide by.

Built from the ground up, without Vision, we can't begin to change.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

FRANK? Piccolella

I enact many a dad tax on my six yearold twin girls. I am a writer and visual artist. Trying to work harder on the business side now to. Horror is my life. When it isn't I read, write, and Arithmetic. Comics and music shall suffice as well.

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