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Looking back they're all a blur,
The years that I was immature,
An energetic child, taintless,
Back then, when running wasn't aimless.

In childhood I ran with purpose,
Before the "shits" and "fucks" and curses,
The days that I was on the swings,
Back when I dreamt of growing wings.

I'd swing until the sky turned purple.
Now all the swinging is internal.
Back and forth, the pendulum goes:
Fiery temper, watery lows.

One day my smile's flashing you,
The next my tongue is lashing you,
The third, I'm down in the abyss,
And I can't answer what's amiss.

The words you say won't make it better.
The pendulum still swings unfettered,
Not by my will, but independent.
I feel, but I can't comprehend it.

So please, don't even waste your breath.
With one returning swing of breadth,
I'll have a better mood, tomorrow;
The next should plunge me into sorrow.

Happy, sad, never consistent,
I keep my people at a distance.
I rule one day, then I'm dethroned.
Why talk? It passes on its own.

So go ahead, swing to the ceiling.
I'll find a way to quell these feelings.
I swear, I will reclaim my crown,
And, pendulum, I'll slow you down.