Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul

 

My mind drifts often
Like snow does in a winter storm
It takes short walks to get energized
When it returns
It reminds me of the sweet things in life

It does not allow me to think about the
Times of strife and suffering and of when
Sometimes my soul was not a soul

My mind escapes me occasionally;
It takes vacations to exotic places,
Where everyone is so relaxed,
They forget they exist.
What a wonderful feeling that can be sometimes.

My mind fills with imagination;
It questions the questionable;
It rejects the rejection;
Without exception.

My mind builds mountains
On the dessert.
Makes the moon smile sometimes,
And grows tiger lilies on the side
Of a lonely road to keep it company

My mind
Yes, it is quite unique
Inventive, and sometimes absent
From reality and the truth.