Mind Games Poem by Phil Soar

My mind drifts like sand across a barren land
My thoughts are hard to understand
Where do I go in moments when it all becomes too much
To places where I can be sure no fatal thoughts will touch

The ease with which I let these thoughts invade my very core
Make times of incidental harm, more prominent than before
Like hail within a rainstorm that can cause damage unexpected
The times I'm lost within that storm go beyond undetected