Ballerina (By: Chris Hathaway)

Without a shadow of a doubt, my shadow is the one I doubt. Following me like a stalker, I need help like old people need walkers. Inside my brain I hear singers and talkers, locked up inside my soul like books locked up in lockers. Tic Toc Tic Toc it gets later like alligators. The moon is so selfless, the stars need not a creator. Yet God is there, spinning and twirling like a ballerina. Baptized in the name of the father; really thought it was my Nina.


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