Thoughts come and go but never stay,

they are all too fleeting to hold and bind,

a mind too frail to put them down,

to chain them bound within this form.

No, unlike me they flitter far and wide,

let loose upon the midnight sky.

I choose to let them go, or so it seems,

for their delicate forms when grasped,

will crush beneath the hands of life,

that day to day unfolds,

sweeping out the new memories with the old.

But back to roost they come en mass,

a flock of birds scattered for only a short while.

For they know what feeds them, it is I.

Even when I want them to stay strangers a while longer.