My Chain to Reality

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When the walls move in and the room gets small,

When the ground disappears and I suddenly fall,

When the sky gets so dark I can only see black,

When reality disappears, I have a panic attack…

 

I scramble for paper and reach for my pen,

I shake and tremble and count to ten.

I focus on the ink release all inhibition,

And begin to indite a composition.

 

The calming release of the words as they flow,

Stops the panic from continuing to grow.

In the end I look down on my beautiful creation,

And then kiss my pen; a miracle medication.

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