My head is full of numbers, 
my heart is full of dread 
if I go from black to blue 
all the rhymes 
will come out new. 
Red bleeds to yellow 
and all the numbers are blue
the three comes in threes and
makes the nine incomplete and 
the moon tells the secrets 
I'm not meant to keep 
it's a message of the future 
and the past complete. 

A half yellow star sharp 
pierces my art.
The ...

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