I feel I messed up this life and the world has only one eye.
It is normal no other human contact as long as it is something strange.
To many I's and to many me's,
must you explain every day of my life to me.
...
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it seems to me that a much better title would be Normal Thirty-seven. what do others think about this? i'm waiting for input. thanks, iip, for sharing. [it sounds a bit dreary. actually, it sounds quite dreary.] bri :) . p.s. on the other hand.......i reread it and find that many? do speak to the speaker, though others do not; THEY don't even stop! well, maybe the many(?) do not actually speak, but they do call..... to speak. as usual, i haven't exactly decided what this poem means to the speaker. : ( oh well.