Thursday, September 22, 2011

The Play

My mind seems to wander in a circle with no end
Like a road that keeps going, one which I depend
On the art that surrounds me, the most indirect
It's the things that go on I’d never suspect

Through a changing perceptions the clouds change their form
From light to dark my surroundings forlorn
But just for a moment until I push them away
You’ll always be the same because that’s how you stay

Inside my own world apart from the rest
This is a place where I sometimes feel best
A tree loses its texture but next spring it will bloom
But we’re all part of a play so never assume