No necessary need for seriousness.
Just something to make the mind tick again,
Fuel the cogs inside my head...
For at least a little while?
Exchange thoughts,
What if's and maybe's.
Just to spin that merry-go-round inside my head,
I used to call my imagination.
Is this the result of growing up?
Things turn from colour to grey.
Repetitive Monotony.
Take me back to Never Never Land.
Or is it just my surroundings?
Sticking out like the first bluebell in spring,
Grown before it's fellow seeds.
Struggling to fit in,
And just connect?
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