The Sketchpad - Words, Images, and Thoughts as One

Wonderfully well written segments on a simple scrap of sketchpad

Wantonly wandering where surprise severs from sadistic scare

Terrifying tension takes tolls on trite attention

And as arises alarm and abhorrence, all across the forlorn forest

Those fallen fruit that floor do find inside the vastly wooded meadow of the mind

But with these words of wisdom read, though fraught with fear and fire fed

That fallen fruit found on the floor, is resting idly no more

A creeping scent of confidence, decisions now wrenched off the fence

Ill impulsion implies insane! Not nearly knowing nothing named

But they know not the nearly famed, for failures fruit is quickly drained

It is thy name of which they speak; such raw resolve is never weak

And though they try to find a lie, your honesty is hard to hide

If only all would understand; the visions of this unweak man

If only everybody had, this visionary scrap of pad

Alas, they do, it isn’t new; it’s wandering in all of you

All answers to questions arisen, are locked within a so-called prison

The lock does hide behind the eyes, the key is understanding life

And not just life as life is born, but truly understanding yours

You are the sketchpad, your mind the segments

Look deep within the mirror here, and learn the secrets buried dear

And as your mind begins to wake, you’ll learn that life is what’s at stake

So scheme the dream to wean your feeble brain

And one day you’ll say 'nay, for he is sane!'

For you’ll have learned what none can teach

Why for this life did fate, towards you, extend its reach?