Sometimes feeling like a little boy <br />Trapped inside a tall mans body <br />I had to grow up and dropp the toys <br />Being a kid here was a fool’s mad hobby <br /> <br />Or maybe it was my trip on shrooms <br />But I swear it never hurt <br />Though my crash landing in the room <br />Sure kicked up the dirt <br /> <br />That came falling through my cranium into my mind <br />Landing on memories in explosive clusters <br />I lost those hours lost in colour and time <br />Being wiped away in a psychedelic duster <br /> <br />I know I was back home coz I felt alone <br />But I know I went somewhere <br />I can’t recollect the zone or where it was I roamed <br />Or what it is I done there <br /> <br />Those little memories that act like you’re stitching <br />Little threads holding the core of you intact <br />I find without my lost threads I’m always itching <br />To find myself more and to know all the facts<br /><br />Kaspa Richards<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lost-little-threads/
