Welcome to the unknown.
It’ not available on the phone.
A place to sit and contemplate on your own.
Where every good dog gets a bone.
Pleasant sounds at a leisurely tone.
Whatever it is I should have known.
Space and time for my mind to roam.
Like searching a vacant home.
Distant memories thick in the air, all alone.
I stumble over a traffic cone.
It must have been a student home.
There known to like a traffic cone.
Send in the drones, the clones.
Or they’ll sit and moan.
Even lower the tone.
My mind has flown like a falling stone.
I sit back and groan.
My mind blown.
My birds have flown.
And it’s all unknown.