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Sunday, 9 September 2012

Ghost Train



I sit and I think
But no train comes
The mind a blank canvass
But no ink dries
Thoughts ramble incoherently
Drifting slowly away
Plan erupts suddenly
Then slowly dies

Craving interaction
With nothing to say
Screaming out for company
Ignoring every one
Dying to communicate
Fragility of mind
Words unsaid, unwritten
Empty to the bone

Life’s rich tapestry
Passes swiftly on
Contemplating emptiness
Shallow to the core
Retreat again within yourself
Your private safety net
Seek solace in the solitude
To think once more

© Fergus Martin
2012