Maybe it’s the times. Maybe it’s the lack of self-space.
Maybe it’s just that I’m getting old and even more Leary,
but I seem to be losing my mind.
My captive thoughts are escaping their brain cells,
running away from me like ungrateful rats
deserting a shrinking wit.
Concentrating is taking a frustrating effort,
although in truth it was never easy for me
and my fluttering butterfly mind
to keep a single thought in my head
when there were so may others to be thunked.
They wander in now from the corners of my mind,
like creeping jeepers in a horrorshow, and I’m afraid
that is what the next feature may be.
Hanging on to threads, following them through
before they unravel and I am lost in the backwoods
of my brain, just keeping hold of thoughts
seems to be getting harder.
Oh, well.
I’m not going to worry.
If I did lose my mind,
how would I know?
Maybe madness is normal in times like these.
Pleased to hear you found it again 🙂
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How very sensible. I’ll try to bear your approach in mind.
Apologies for the delayed response. I lost my mind for a little while.
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You’re not alone in losing your mind.
Wouldn’t it be something if we could just wander along to lost property and claim one from the numerous lost minds handed in?
My own mind worries too much. I really don’t mind losing it every so often. It’s like having a little holiday 🙂
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Thanks. I was concentrating…
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ungrateful rats deserting a shrinking wit …
big!
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