And Sometimes I Use That Pen For Shitty Poems That I'm Proud Of For Like 30 Minutes Before I Declare Them Cringe - Tumblr Posts

A Whim

My will is a whim, a fleeting, fickle thing

One day, ‘tis here, the next, nothing brings

Like fire, it consumes all waking thoughts with light

And like fire, it dissipates like smoke to the night

My will is an impulse, sporadic, ever changing

Foam in the maw of a ragged mutt that’s mangeing

It froths and fizzles at the thought of staying still

It hisses and snarls, always swearing time ‘twill kill

My will is a whim, a bastard and a liar

It’s headphones that still work if you just fiddle with the wire

For only clouds decide when time it comes to rain

And only whims make sense of those of us insane