The Shape Of Us

They say time is a flat circle which sounds right to me because 
When I take my clock off the wall and set it on the ground
It’s very plain to see that life is a piece of paper
My pencil circles around until 
I whittle it to the nub and the lead makes a cracking sound
As I get older, the shape of my soul becomes more defined
Broken love and unfulfilled dreams weigh heavy on my mind 
I think emotions are the circles unsure of where they begin or end
Thoughts are an unfinished email and I’m afraid to hit send
Combined with an unhealthy diet that turns me into an oval mess
I can’t help but wonder how the figure 8’s handle stress
Have they never had bad luck? Is their story a Cliff note?
Does sunshine pour out of their pores naturally?
Do they even own a coat?
Why does life hand one man a dollar and another a penny
How can someone not write a story yet others have so many?
If we were to undress a figure 8 with a nice pick up line or maybe a couple of drinks
The facade might come off to reveal their armor has the same chinks
They do well to hide the fact that no matter how they felt
They too are a circle when you take off the belt
Once you find inner peace and let your unhappiness go
The fog of your personality is lifted, and now there’s so much more to show
Once we find our inner beauty and love for what we are
We can take off all our blindfolds and realize we’re all stars. 

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