Sometimes I wish that I could just stop thinking.
Some people do that, or I hear they do,
By meditation, brainlessness, or drinking,
Rest and relaxation, or the new
Video game system that they bought.
I cannot do it. Even when it seems
That I should be, at long last, without thought,
Quiet and at peace, somehow daydreams
Sneak in, and turn my brain from empty waste
Into a dreamland, full of shapes and sounds
And echoes of my day, that have the taste
Of thought. My mind appears to have no bounds
Except for this: it will continue on
Thinking no matter where my thoughts have gone.
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