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assembly line ladders, ambient sounds of talking
these empty, crowded roads, crawling with the absence of activity
forgotten centuries. abandoned school buildings
littered lanes of thought, mental skeletons lying around our little
mental rooms where we sleep. trying to clean them all up
sweeping away but they just get rearranged, mixed up, scattered
but still remain. birds perch up in the mental rafters, looking down
on such a sight. they feel it is futile and they can do nothing but watch
cobwebs form in the corners of our minds
a treasure trove of nothing  to be caught, only lessons to us are taught
lights switching off and on by imaginary friends or thoughts of old
the ones that pressure us with the what ifs and could haves
we have control though, we just lose sight of the control panel you see.
these are our minds as we and time and life have defined them to be.
just remember to change our minds from time to time
spilling out these lines that i find, lost between the defined spaces
between tomorrow and yesterday. there's a time for these things
when it;s too late. it beams down on those familiar floors,
you can see it underneath the crack of the door
spilling through and onto all