Sometimes my hands grow slow
this is when my mind races
all through history
mine and yours
that's where it goes
slow hands can't grasp
can't steal or give
minds can
when they don't race, that is
An all too busy mind, yes, all too busy
can't stop, too much to read and see
what's there should be here
that's the mind
may take you for a ride as it does me
Slow hands, a racing mind makes tired souls
all too tired, yes, all too tired
the bloom that was may waste away
the hands can't catch it
the mind can't either
poor soul, wasting away
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© EC
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-04-07 01:35:49
Last Login: 05.22.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 1290
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