These are my penned and papered thoughts,
My curious mind has always sought,
Seeked, dabbled about and always got,
Even though I sit still to the ground, I am always nuts,
I have always thought about thoughts I was never taught,
I have always got about plots; like an open loft.
It is 11:48 on a friday, the sun is on a mission to fry ye,
Amidst the cold breezes that blows our mind ways,
Amidst the clear path and the haze days,
Through the settled in and the troubled days,
I will always be I,…
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