My shoelace is loose
What do I care
Contemplation to move
Is simply nowhere,
What is the point and who knows?
This time is my time
And my time is mine.
Laid back in thought
Mind out of gear
What have I got
It's me, who is here
And that loose lace only shows
My space is my space
Keep out of my face.
In lonesome hours
Of contemplation
I'm happy in
My isolation
What else is there, to lose.
Was that the phone?
No, I'm still alone.
It's best to be
On own in kind
To clear the head
And heal the mind,
Won't someone ...do up my shoes.
(c) ZYDHA HART 2005
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
First 