boiling
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Winter…. Is awful
I spend five months (give or take) a year
Every year suffering
In the cold
And the wind
And the frigid expanse of dim lighting
And depressed employees
All for what?
The mind, my mind, is a melting pot.
I add and add stuff and singing
Baggage and things.
The pot can only hold so much,
Not enough it seems.
People dump their stuff inside
