There's this thing that I think
that I thought I once knew;
but the thing is I think
that I ain't thunk it through.
~
Perhaps this is old,
perhaps this is new,
this odd little thought
I thought I once knew.
~
So I sits and I scritch
and I says to myself,
"Sort your wits slowly,
like plates on a shelf."
~
Maybe it's big,
perhaps it is small,
this odd little thought
that I cannot recall.
w.i.p. - There's so much more I want to do to this.
© 2011 J.J.W. Coyle