Poem #28

I hope we all have days

When cotton wool,

The kind you might find

Wedged between

The rafters of an attic,

Pads out the pinkish brain.

 

I’ve dubbed it mind-muffle

(Capable of insulating

Logic and whimsy,

Even after a good eight hours

And plenty of water too):

Grown thoughts cause burn-out,

Thoughts like, ‘What do I do?’

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