My mind explodes.
The shrapnel etch
Scattered prayers on tea stained paper.
Inked on sheet runways.
Passengers come and go,
Same direction with different destinations.
My notebook becomes my bible.
All I believe is the gospel of my ego.
My unanswered prayers fall before my own deaf ears.
Collections of distorted memories.
Dancing in the rain,
With deserted lines of poetry.
The margins border a nation of my own.
Stricken by civil war,
Entrenched in selfish dictatorship.
Every scratched out sentiment, a visualized regret.
A train of thought,
Abandoned, decaying on unused railroad.
My brain, whimsically spinning,
Enamored with the myriad of reflections
Cast by the funhouse mirrors of creativity.