Those Buggers

Down the rabbit hole
We’ll send away our minds
To explore
Far past the mundane
Let curiosity run wild
Then you’ll see what I see
I walk around
Seeing the air filled with stories
I run after these scoundrels
On several pieces of paper
Pain, happiness, anger, bliss, and scorn
All the emotions written in the book appear
Painting new messages in pencil lead and pen ink
Messages even I’ve never seen before
There must be stitches at these wrists
Because these words are too beautiful
I’ve always seen myself as a wreck
A wreck of mind matter playing with the English language
Why must I be a poet?
My heart and soul is just infected
With emotions wanting to make paintings
Turning the wild into something clear I can admire
But I can’t even paint
My mind says
Don’t worry about that
The heart and soul replies
Down the rabbit hole
We’ll go with our words
Diving into the arts
Like we’re jumping off cliff ledges
Try not to worry
Then you’ll find yourself developing wings

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