One Million Mental Miles

Ideas come and go,

Gliding to and fro.

Some melt away like dying snow.

Others grow,

To become things all will know.

Some lead us to strange places,

To cramped, wondrous spaces

and shoes hanging by laces.

People arrive, with few traces.

 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741