My Pliable Innocence

Hold that though!

But how?

Thoughts are so fleeting.

They wander as I wonder,

Disconnectedly,

Without rhyme or reason that I can see.

They travel randomly as they please,

Coming and going

Without consulting me,

As if I don’t exist.

It’s freaky!

I’m being used by someone I can’t see.

Maybe the devil’s playing games with me,

Having fun at my expense,

Taking advantage of my pliable innocence.

Why are thoughts so hard to control?

They’re right here, in my head,

In my most prized real estate,

Doing as they please, as if I’m dead!