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A Conversation with Myself by Steven Heyes

When I talk to myself
I wonder where the thoughts come from
Little unexplored corners of my mind
Hidden from the real world
Imagined topics for exploration
Don’t contribute to the knowledge of the nation
Woolly ideas spring from unknown origin
Banal concepts sally forth
Which I argue for with all my worth
My words are happier when the sun shines
But seem to decline in winters gloom
Odes abound in my head
Like earworms stopping me sleeping
Some written down, some long forgotten
More so now my memory is rotten.