down at the old mop bucket

You meet the most interesting people
In the most unexpected places,
Other honest mouths.
A room full of people
Who speak freely
But just a short walk away is a man
Who is slowly freaking out in his own way.
We move as one yet never in time
Where not the ocean or the wind but something real.
In sleep,
The place is all-new,
Some passion built up from something
One couldn't even dream.

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