Posted in Poetry

The Wayward Mind

It’s restless nights like these

My mind refuses to sleep.

Wandering around,

Not a clue of boundaries,

Of properties too dangerous to infringe.

But the mind listens to none,

Like a kid who has to fall

To learn how it hurts,

Only to fall again, and again.

On a venture, thus, it goes

Aware and not caring of the repercussions.

Image credits: Google images

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