Thought you may like to see inside my head, amongst the confusion and colour of circular motion that never slows,
Thought you may like to ride on the wheel of misfortune, holding tight to a dream that spins within my erratic conscience,
Thought you may like to know just what has happened to the sanity that once was, yet is now rendered to a pile of missing pieces the puzzle left behind,
Thought you may like to know that I'm holding so tight, trying to keep my balance and not to fall,
until my wooden horse tires and stops, and the man comes to cover him for another day,
with a mantle of no more music and silky darkness,
Thought you may like to know.

Copyrite(C)William C Wallace June 2001