Mental Fog

You

Slip through

My mind

Like running water

In my hands.

Disappearing

At the slightest whim

When the mood

Suits you.

Frustrating

To no ends

As this occur

During a time of

Expressing myself.

Left

Bereaved of thoughts

And ideas

Like a badly shaken

Etch-A-Sketch pad.

Yet

No matter

How hard I try

Nothing stops

You.

Sigh

Darn you.

For

Your existence is

Part of everyone’s

Mental make-up.

But

This does not mean

I have to like

Or enjoy your visits

Though.

Author's Note

Originally written April 10, 2012.

Oops, I have forgotten, why I have written this poem, of mine.