Memory

A rhyme. Helps control the chaos. Time. Lime. Thyme. My ideas normally stray. So I tame them. They go further, anyway. Strolling through the downtown of my thoughts. Disjointed like dinosaur bones that have just been discovered. Dinosaur, roar, soar. When I rhyme? The ask why. The rhythm is something I can control. It’s a hobby, but also keeps me calm. It keeps me calm, but also crazy. They suggest a thought disorder? Maybe just a quarter. Before noon? Making cookies soon. My ideas are an adventure. And like an adventure, are scary sometimes. They had suggested a thought disorder. I will take that into consideration. Innovation…imagination. I will take that into consideration… If my mind allows me to remember.