Scribbled in Notes

by Sableshade

Bring out the box of bonds,

Here we have hands and heavy hooks

Too many to make puns with, but too tempting to toss topside

Could toss them aside, but we’ll be back at it, forgetting things

 

So as we start the next piece, the planning of it, or something from it,

Write as much of it down, picture it as a tombstone

There will be mounds of blossoms, a few plain tomes

Scattered ideas scattered all over again while the wicked wrist wicks, cracks, twists, and bends

 

Some days where the heart gets dents, some cuts, more winces,

There will be some memories getting scattered, but they’ll not be merely shattered

Tarred in boiling glass, to be preserved for admiring

Noticed by the plot, begging to regain hold

 

It will be written, and all of it will say “no”,

“No” to the darker thoughts

The holes that patch the image within with untied lies

“No” to the pain that at times would take the shackle of chains

 

The ties can be drawn erased, even broken,

So can ambitious dreams…

So don’t let go, don’t fold the hold to some stranger invading domes

Whatever the mind knows, open up the tote, save the tone

 

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