Thoughts about thoughts
the night so long, so dark and dense
quiet in the purest sense
with nothing to dwell on but past tense
Energy used for naught
A day that turns into two then three
An end to that one cannot see
Happens only occasionally
But hurts me just the same
There are no words that can describe
The speed with which the thoughts collide
Before one ends another one slides
Into my faltering mind.
But on the morrow as a new day dawns
And the sunrise, still sleepy, yawns
I know that I am but a pawn
In the game that is known as life.
I don’t consider it a game
With each level more of the same
A wayward thought I cannot tame
This thing that is my life.
But all things, good or bad, must end
And trying diligently to rescind
Words once said in delirium
Cannot be unsaid.
Thoughts unbidden fill my head
When silence is preferred instead
But silence, to me, is all but dead
And yet the beauty lasts.
©Gina Minton Kearns
A Photographer's Heart 