A few stray ones, some still unformed
Thoughts play on my mind
I can hold on to some, some I
Jot down, some I let go
Like festering multiplying entities
Individual yet dependent
They romp around in their playground
Some leave me panting after them
Excited as only children can be
Exhilarating, exuberant, breathless
And yet others as despondent, lonely
Some I can turn into action
While others I let them be
Some leave me melancholy and wanting
While others take me on my wandering spree
All are dear but do not last always
Like bubbles of soap floating around
I can break some and enjoy the beauty of others
But they are my own, my thoughts they make me