Thinking And Walking Poem by Jayson Howard

Walking on train tracks,
noticing how my shadow is fat,
but at least I know it has my back,
no matter how bad I act,
at least it has my back.

Walking down the sidewalk,
listening to the birds talk,
stepping on worlds of chalk,
and I feel sorry for my socks,
because they stepped on worlds of chalk.

Laying on my bed,
pillow under my head,
thoughts pour in and out again,
and the day has finally come to an end.
Laying on the floor,
in range of the door.
As some thoughts exit, there comes more,
and they’re none like before.