dark corner of my mind/
this spot always seems quite warm/
with a cat in the wings to take its place/
whilst playing musical chairs by myself


my confidence escapes me
or ex-capes me, how I say
i wish for things out of reach
and pray to pray more often than I do

sighing deeply
heart half hanging by a thread of loneliness
to cut this tie that i tie
would it be an end or maybe a chance, to grow

Up, I think up
and down, it dips my thoughts low and almost out of reach
to gain something is to make it individual
and to create/mold it, this means to give wings
spreading it into the unknown and beautiful universe

Why is it called the universe
when quite possible it could be a biverse or triverse or quad
we put limits to create understanding
and like a butterfly, it must be let go

I mustn't dwell
Good will come
however long it might take
My type of "good"
When it is least expected.