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Forever thinking of
Coming to a halt.
Feasting away at the thoughts of something deep
And meaningful, though can it be so
If it ends as soon as normality begins
Perhaps there's nothing behind the wall of self preservation
Sanity I like to think that is.
Stop.
Maybe it's the opposite. It's gobbling my ponderings
And blocking the inspirational
Wake up and smell the bacon it says to me.
But.
On the other side of the heavy sheeted mist
The answers lie. Twisted round
Endings. Pull back the covers and take a cold shower.
Safely in the knowledge
Of nothing at all.