Thoughts to words translate
without a thought to keep them straight
Why words when other venues there
allow a simpler way of greying hair?
Too much I fear, but to suppose
I cared nothing for the rest of those
Much less I find in thoughts concurred
I’ve gone and lost the perfect word
instead of failure, nothing gone
nothing lost or left upon
the upper shelf that memory built
there is no shame and thus no guilt
My thinking leans against the pole
of higher thought, so says my soul
but lacking reinforcing proof
My mind ignores, my head aloof
devoid of deeper, significant cares
I have not the the words, nor thoughts to share.