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,
The only thing left,
Is for you to open the doors