thoughts.

The old book is me, it is all of us

The stories of unfinished things

Now the damp ruined the painting

Now the dust cover us

Now everything breaks to how it used to be

Like drops to a stone, it shapes us

Changing us

So we love but not dependent on each other

So we fight

So we learn

The mind map is yours, it is all yours

And I am just the dot on those

Close to remind, but not to stop your stride

All you need to do is just pass through the dot

And moving on with your life

Little did I know and ask my self

Where does this conversation take place?

Cause I find it nowhere

Not in the books that I read, nor the painting I draw

Oh dear, it happens right on your mind