Potholes, black holes, knot holes, there
What kind of hole makes you pull out your hair
Maybe thinking, dreaming, remembering, mail
Something always makes us think how we fail.
Maybe it was a child, a woman, even other men
It leaves of dreaming of a moment back then
A color, a smell, a shape or a musical sound
That keeps our mind and thoughts spinning round.
Some poster, a scripture, a movie or a game
Doesn’t matter it still turned out the same
Our closet, our dresser, our kitchen and chair
Leaves us thinking of smiles, glimpses, even hair.
Our morals, our beliefs, the depth or our soul
All keep us circling as if stuck in a hole
A change, a loss, a stubbornness maybe a tear
Gets us out of the hole and moving on somewhere.