My cranium, once cavernous, is filled with such minutia, with words that flatter, my grey matter has turned the boldest fuchsia. And life events have taken space reserved for all my musing, I hate when they get in my face, and not through my own choosing. Those grand ideas that haven’t hatched will find a way to haunt me, they all look good on paper, but in action, are just daunting.
Events that hold a special spot, retained through repetition, birthdays, anniversaries, and the lot; to forget one is sedition. My head’s all clogged from writing blogs, my thoughts are one big jumble, if I would speak my mind out loud, I’d probably only mumble. Clarity has flown the coop, my logic’s hard to follow,
I get so flustered I could spit, but you’ll find that hard to swallow.
And TV is a mindless task, I’m not the biggest viewer, I’d put my mind up on e-bay and find me something newer. I think out loud, an endless drone, the humming starts to bug me, I wish that I could find a way, for someone to unplug me.
Grey silhouette stands
against the barren tree branch
thoughts take flight like birds
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2018
dVerse Poets Pub – Beauty/Misery of Grey Haibun