The Fourth Floor Room of My Mind

I have climbed three floors and I’m out of breath Reaching the fourth, I break out into a sweat. The four stages of life, are the four floors My mind is the back room of the fourth of nowhere. I put down my bags and sing out a tune My pace is now slow, I don’t need to climb down anymore. The trick is to keep my fourth floor room without clutter And travel down memory lane without any mutter. I can fly up high or run down a hill Swim in the wide Ocean,or just sit still My dreams are now,all that I make And dose off awhile, even when I’m awake. I pen down my lines, or sing out of tune No one to judge me, I’m out of the race On the fourth floor of nowhere in my back room I’m am now considering to journey over the moon. 10.09.2020