Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

Won might axe, "What is the mind?"
It tells you two think...act...or find.
Think of memories, that strain the hart,
Or act ridiculous, like making a ****!

"Find what?" People shall inquire.
"Four all of these miss steaks, written with know desire?"
But think twice, thrice, why not mice?
For this poem was written to give you spice.

The mind you sea, can make cents from error.
The mind can bee a place of terror.
Please do not be afraid, if eye must say.
For the monsters inside can stay at bey.

The fear within can be a hindrance.
Especially, when safety is off inn the distance.
Sow why does your mind keep you back?
You can't get away! You're always under attacked!

The answer is knot what you always feel.
No, it's not even complicated like making a deal.
For if you look deep down inside.
It's just your emotions, trying to hide.

Let's think a bout this, it's quite simple.
Like finding that stoopid annoying pimple.
You mite be the type to complain and blame.
**** your delicate mind is just a game.

Fall pray to it's claws, and you will lose.
In reality, it's only a ruse.
It will toss, turn, and try too undermine.
In order to win, you must mine the mind.

Dig in the depths of this vast beautiful world.
For you are the one that made it unfurled.
The only difference between yours and mine,
Is that I have mine, and yours is perfectly fine.

There was a young man who sat by the Sea
Without fail, everyone knew, he would go every morning
The youth sat there to think and it made him feel free
Free to dream or not dream. When in bliss, when in mourning

He loved the Sea for its surface
Wind-kissed waves distorting starlight
He loved the Sea for it's depths
Churning into thick ink when absorbing the night

A love that began in small boyhood
Burying tiny toes within her cool sand
Though with the strong passion of man
The first time her wet silkiness tickled his hand

Oh, how he adored her! Through torrents and sun
Her whispers and shouts only separate intensities
But he would not go into her, for he feared just as much
She had told him, one by one, of her darkest propensities

So a sailor in heart, but in soul a wise lover
The boy, now a man paid respect to her glory
He and she, now and then, liked to play with each other
But she kept him from harm where she showed others fury

This went on, sunrise, sunset,  and day after day
Until all the young man's friends were stooping and gray
Still the lull of the sea seemed to pull him away
From reality and back into it, he'd gone mad, some will say

And the time had come finally to confess all his desires
To do what he had refrained from for so long
On a particular eve that seemed wilder than any
The hour to usher in his destiny, and feel her sea-song

The storm caused curling foam,
Both entrancing and detestable
But to him, it looked like home
Like a restful sleep, quite testable

He thought, could this tumult be wrath of the Father?
Or is this a sign--the return of the Son?
Perhaps, 'tis a warning from the Holiest Ghost
He was wrong, but just right. 'Twas all this, but in one

And nearby sirens sang
For the bravery of their hero as he was swept from the shore
And far-off sirens rang
For the fate of the old man, the sailor, who watched the sea no more