Forget Me Not Poem by Leaking Pen

Is it by choice that anther thought is forgotten?
It will disappear on its own anyhow.
Like a cobra hiding in a hole or under ground cover.
Dormant from my inactive stick of curiosity
Not knowing the consequences of my inactions
It is frustrating that my mind quits working
And hides itself behind the rolling hills of imagination,
And is drained from every thought and its expansion.
Contraction, a disease I wish it on no one.
And here I am in the eye of silence
Its force rotating around me
I cannot see what lays in my outer self
Of destruction and mayhem I hear tales being told.
An artificial bubble surrounds my inner existence
Its quite temperament feels unreal, unnatural
Slow movements is my only driving force
Its prison robs me of my will to think or act
And sends me to the mind of Alzheimer's disease.

June 19 2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
Rev Nov 11 2014