The Jungle Hanna Ross
Behind these porcelain palace walls Adorned with gemstones green An interior world of chaos rises A rainforest made out of dreams In halls of leafy splendor Where dopamine waterfalls rush Parakeets soar, passing thoughts back and forth Their exuberant coos never hush But there are places where the flowers cannot find the sun And the canopy is so dark and thick No sunbeams dare paint the shadowy nooks Panthers prowl and boas constrict What looks like paradise to a passerby May really be a wilderness untamed And this jungle that never stops stirring You simply refer to as my brain.
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