Thoughts streaming through my mind Sounding like cats claws on a chalk board Try as I might, I couldn’t make sense of anything I had a free ticket for a weekend spa I think about it was the best I could do I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head By rights, I should have gone to the doctor last week Nothing I take does any good I open the window to let a moth out Wishing I could fly along side They say the mind seeks its own comfort A lame thought from someone’s mind Second-hand thoughts rush to join the others In the daily grind of what to do If I were to fray completely, would I vanish? Could I find that sheen, the old sparkle That carried my name, in time to save me.
© Anita Dawes 2021
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