…and also feels unfinished to be honest. However, this one does explain how so many of my rhymes come in to being, and the frustration of knowing that they’re there, but being unable to get them out and on to paper.
My mind too full of thoughts to think, My pen held poised but no words to ink. I express my heart in verse and rhyme, I just wish I could control the time. Like storm clouds fit to burst with rain, Is how it feels within my brain. I struggle for the words to say, What my emotions are each day. Sometimes I simply have to go, Where mountains climb or rivers flow. Away from all the mental static, Which makes me feel oh so erratic. And there alone in nature’s peace, The turmoil can find release.
The last two lines just came to me, which finished it off a bit more than it was. No doubt I’ll play with it anon. Title suggestions welcome, comment, tweet or e-mail: disjointed rhymings at gmail dot com. Enjoy!