Mind

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Cave overlooking the sea

My mind…works like a cave

Dark, mildew with ancient treasures marked across the

Musky slippery floors.

The rumble in my head almost as hollow

As the wind that passes through the

Tunnels, unmarked by men.

Sometimes the wind could chatter and echo through

And the voices could grow louder.

As darkness engulfs

Little creatures scamper away

They’ve made a home in there...

 

My mind

With statues of a past life

With stories left behind as memories

With decay, and stones crumpling from age.

 

My mind

As the words to this

Slowly diminish to a silent buzz

As I live through the day.

"The mind could be your home or your prison... I mean will you go with the red or the blue pill"
-Anonymous
Poetry
Kenya