From the bottom? No from the top.
From the top we shall drop.
We shall drop until we come to a stop.
Come to a stop at the mop.

The mop is wild and brown.
Wild and brown framing the face all the way down.
All the way down you will find anything but a frown.
A frown, which lies upside down, is followed by a gown.

A gown, flowing in the breeze, trickles to an end.
An end of one thing is the start of another bend.
Another bend of the legs, will be followed by another extend.
Another extend leaves the world behind to blend.

Behind to blend are all of the words you just read.
You just read my life story hidden in the thread.
The thread of this poem your memory may now shred.
That is unless you would like to start again... From the bottom?