Oh that again

This feeling is an old ghost of mine that I’ve known from the ages of myself
Always there and nowhere in same breaths
I’d paint it by numbers to explain
Crayons would be more fitting if the lines would stay still long enough for shaking hands to color them in fully
A big orange yellowish sun with lines jabbing through the sky that only fills a page half way
Green scribbled grass
Fluffy clouds outline black over white
I’m no where in the picture

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