My still hands were the catalyst
Or perhaps it is my disinterest of what’s around.
Well, whatever the reason, it is too late now.
As my mind begins wonders, to the stars and beyond.
My imagination, free from reason, now paint wildly,
Never staying on one thought, running wild like the wind.
Inspiration unhindered, flow like a torrent like a river,
Bringing life to new concepts and ideas
Or rekindling those thought long forgotten.
However not all of these are light-hearted.
Some are mischievous, some nefarious,
And some I will bring to my grave, never to be shared.
And to think, it was because, I had become bored.