• I am forgetful the fault is mine to much poison clouding my mind, meditate for peace as I decline I feel my life is wrapped up in vines, tangled and obtuse unable to be set loose although these vines may seem fickle they grow thorns as I struggle, roses as I stay at ease but they wont seem to let me free I'm entangled in this wonderous mess a calamity if you will a maze contoured into self pity but I refuse to stay, too afraid to stray no matter how much I age it seems my spirit will forever remain.