The stuff that moves in and out, like a busy street of commotion
I stop and think sometimes why am I constantly in motion?
My mind is like traffic that never seems to stop,
I know sometimes the havoc of it all makes my brain want to pop.
Traffic that has no sense of origin, not even an end
I feel trapped by all in my head that enters in.
Sometimes for just a brief moment, my pain eases
I think honestly I’d have better luck capturing sneezes.
Traffic of a different nature, yes!
But still traffic non the less.
A fluid movement from an active brain
I know you probably think me to be insane.
If just once traffic could be averted for a while
I would rest for maybe a mile,
With a big fat smile!