Tuesday, 28 September 2010


Do you sometimes feel all cloudy
In the furthest reaches of your mind
Like you're wearing tiny blinkers
That leave you completely blind

Your head seems occupied, obscure
Like a thick mist has rolled on in
And no stiff breeze or even more
Can remove it from within

And the reason for this occupiedness
Remains locked inside there too
So not even the topic of consideration
Is available to you

You're just a paying passenger
Ticket in your hand
Knowing not the outbound destination
Or what your mind has planned

And that's where I find myself today
En route to some unknown place
Hope when I arrive and look at myself
I still recognise my face

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