Will there be a structure here
Or will I look for trickery
I looked at my old writing today
Syntaxes don’t match the meaning of my
Broken thought crashing crashing through my eyes
And then slowly this light fades into reflections
My precious mind remembers the days of youthful bliss
When ignorance was embraced like a lover’s molten touch
At length I find that my count fails
I become a prisoner to my
unfaithful words a caged bird it remains
is this a tool or a jail holding onto
my hateful past only to gray my future dreams
this mind it reels this hand goes cold each word now feels like
an old ghost meandering through my mind’s endless mirror