poem: that, and

[sugarwhales]

last one for today.

might write more.

that, and

my thoughts are roundabout
skipping around a fancy bush
with no direction, route or path
and they pluck the flowers of
ambiguous phrases and let
some petals fall for the
awaiting masses to pick up and
trail after neverending thoughts
around a circle path that
has no beginning nor end, and
of course people ask when will this
stop, which I honestly think
is ridiculous because of this and