Out of My Head

Edvard Munch

Edvard Munch

We are that little demon

who infiltrates your head

we second guess

will say unless

while the world ticks along.

Instead of knowing why

Instinct suggests it would

involve your being wise

initiate some newer worry

in time our circle wound

~

Leave their lives alone,

and wonder about your own,

there’s plenty of time to find

a vacancy at home. Unwind

the raveling storm of discontent

relish beauty’s grace your true intent.

We cannot hope to find a way

to shake the storms of our today

if when we recognize our will

we choose again to simply chill

~

I walked outside tonight to scream

while further along remains my dream.