(I remember being ten and constantly looking out of my bedroom’s window.)

What’s going on here?

What are these things in my mind’s eye

Winding and filled with desperate wanderlust

Leaning out of windows to peek through

Studying and thinking

If only they could ever leave their current life

Leave and learn and grow, all like they used to

Back when they were spontaneous

And go out into that bright world out there

Just. In. Sight.

Will these things in my mind’s eye ever leave? 

Like will I go on with these wandering thoughts

Thoughts that fly and flit around my head

That I always try to grasp at

But no, it never seems to stick

And what will happen once critics see these thoughts?

What would they read out of these ramblings?

Will they draw constant connections to specific word choice, as per usual

Hyper focus and hype up the accidentals

Pay such special attention to the fact that flit, it and stick

Rhyme and just so happen to be within two lines of each other? 

Because alliteration is the height of poetic meaning

What allegory will they invent for this

Imagine the new entity which could rise

From the dirt

To be studied and beloved

Far beyond its lowly circumstance