A Small Sea of Thougths

All I do or think
is always left unfinished.
Wanting, I want the infinite.
Doing, nothing is ever true.

What disgust I get
looking at my output.
My soul is smooth and fertile,
but I am a sea of leftovers.

A sea of floating fragments
from far away seas.
Decision or introspection?
I don't know, and I know it well.

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Images from pixabay

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