There are a few things i might say
knowing i would pass today;
though fewer things that i would do
those things are all important too.
But living in the moment we
transcend our world of cruelty,
and past events of tragic loss
the world spins, the trees grow moss.
There is no single thing you’ll find
that can imprison your own mind,
but one thing you should know for sure:
your mind’s a prison, you’re the door.
The key is to stop questioning.
The door’s not locked, you’ll let you in,
for consciousness is all of us
and living, knowing, we’re all dust
is such a happy thought to think,
but sweeter still, a thought to ink.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
There are a few things i might say
knowing i would pass today;
though fewer things that i would do
those things are all important too.
But living in the moment we
transcend our world of cruelty,
and past events of tragic loss
the world spins, the trees grow moss.
There is no single thing you’ll find
that can imprison your own mind,
but one thing you should know for sure:
your mind’s a prison, you’re the door.
The key is to stop questioning.
The door’s not locked, you’ll let you in,
for consciousness is all of us
and living, knowing, we’re all dust
is such a happy thought to think,
but sweeter still, a thought to ink.
Request permission to use this poem