Good Ideas—
Good ideas.

I lost the plot for today.
Scattering my brain because of demands.

A people pleaser, it seems like—
Filling their commands
with every good wish left in this world.

Even mentally gone,
there’s still so much to be said.

Exhausted.
Yet in need of execution.

Intentions foggy to many,
but metaphysical to me.

I could remember it tomorrow—
but I will not follow suit.
Not a computer so it’s all selective memory.

This emotion is pure,
and I can’t let it burn like the thought in my head.
So I thread on
whatever is left
and make it work.

Good Ideas—
Good Ideas.