Tuesday, 1 May 2018

Conscious of Consciousness

I am in that shallow place
Thinking about I
I am in that hollow space
Thinking about why

About why Colin Tinker and me
Played football on our own
About why he was so good you see
And my parents were not at home

I am on that dodgy race
To feeling sorry for myself
Recalling how the hunt we chased
Killing, with our abundant wealth

With a viewpoint from that sycamore tree
Swaying calmly in the wind
Movements of ease to set one free
With no thoughts of love to rescind

I am seeking out that grace
Which morning light does bring
Thinking, that to turn about face
Will in no way cause the bells to ring

Neither, neither, neither the tea
Which I happily, and slowly, sip
Thinking not of what I wish to be
But how indeed I may learn to skip

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