__________________________________________
In my kingdom are many, many thoughts all clamoring for attention at once
Fractious children gather at my doors,
Knocking on walls, peeping through keyholes;
And if I open to one, they would all rush in
Like the wind rushes by, on some panic-blind day.
And then depart precipitously, like a wallcloud swirls,
Or a storm of dry leaves falls to the ground,
While leaving behind an intangible something,
Which says look, things here may have changed.
No thing's the same, as the minutes before:
And you surely know, you must have changed too
As you slowly step out, of the corpse of the old
And move toward the new doom, uncertain as ever.
__________________________________________
