Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Mindloss


Your mind has gone dim,
Not one single whim,
The workers left early it seems
As still as a bus,
Long after the rush,
You can’t tell what anything means

Your trains of thought are,
Blank to the last car
None have left Mind Central Station
Not one single notion,
Starts up a commotion
Inside your imagination

A memory lingers,
At a snap of the fingers,
Thoughts, they would jump into action
But now there is this,
A Brain Basilisk
Has eyed you into petrifaction

You recall times,
When reasons and rhymes
Came to you quicker than thought
But now thought and reason,
Have gone out of season
It seems to all have been rot

What’s really the point?
To flex your brain joints?
What good will your thoughts ever do?
Rather you really,
Should lay back, ideally,
And devolve to primordial goo

Infect your ambition
With deadly condition
Some might call total indiff’rence
Don’t think or surmise,
Or hypothesize,
Flee at a real thought’s appearance

But why, wait a minute,
If there’s nothing in it,
Do you fight off thoughts with a will?
It’s almost as though,
When you don’t even know,
You have thoughts clogging up your brain still

See, when your head’s blocked,
And you feel your brain’s locked,
Inside of a thinking-proof box
You have a decision,
One's toss out ambition,
Or break out and shatter the locks

Your thoughts are all waiting,
To board at the Station,
With tickets to never seen shores
The train has been prepped,
The only thing left,
Is for you to open the doors

A Very Fishy Endeavor