Once in awhile thoughts in one’s head are like a thunderstorm. Sometimes thoughts are hard to get a hold of and put into something recognizable.
rain pitter patters
against my window
as the thunder bellows
passed the gates
of my mind
my thoughts have been
interrupted
once again
often really I should say
things rumble inside
disturbing my thoughts
like pine needles in a storm
racing to get somewhere
but never knowing really
where anything will land
these thunderstorms
totally tatter my thoughts
to tiny pieces
unrecognizable to outsiders
who peer in
to see what’s really there
so did you get a good look
as to who I am
or are you still confused
by the thunderstorms wickedness
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