Illusion of Art In Mind
The mind is a play place of unique and distinct thought.
This brings me to thinking of things in my mind I brought.
I could create an image of all the things in the world in my mind.
The meaning of this is some times not so kind.
The recklessness of such choices could make me go insane.
The mind its self is complicated and it's own bane.
When things are so confusing and you see more things than one.
You may as well pack your bags because you are all done.
Minds do check out with creativity as its jail.
One could say it one way that we have a choice to bail.
On the journey of the thoughts of queasiness.
The mind thinks its like a business.
The idea of one image can set a chain of no relief.
That is why we lose our self with disbelief.
Lacking understanding of what we see.
Just means that our mine did not adapt to be.
The lines that our eyes show our brain does not go so well.
It is like a cracked ringing bell.
This is what we have acquired in our recent thought of knowledge.
In our mind we can stand outside without foul-edge.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment