Fog

Looking outside I see the foggy
Air dominating the world
Vague figures wandering
Around on their own

Inside my head the fog
Automatically takes over again
All the thoughts and feelings
Walking over me

But when the sky clears up,
The fog disappears
And the vague figures
Become beautiful people

My head rarely gets rid of the fog,
So the beautiful things are
Almost never shown to me
The mind is a mess of a place to be

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