The Thought Poem by Monkee Thompson

Turning slowly, yet hanging on
The stray thought that twists in the breeze
Where it comes from or where it goes
Is all for you to decide as nobody else knows

Slipping softly into your head
The dreams and thoughts of the soon to be dead
A bed inside your own head awaits
While times gone past will slowly fade

The thought now grows, with a life of its own
Do you control it, you still don't know
To act on impulse and be truly free
Was that the thought or was that me

And as now the thought drifts away
Make sure to find another for a brighter day