Lost Thoughts

I placed my thoughts in a box,
So carefully arranged.  
A hierarchy of my own devising,
So as not to be deranged.  

I placed the box upon a shelf,
To keep my thoughts from harm.  
A scheme some might find surprising,
Straight were the rows I farm.  

Tight were the strings that bound,
The straitlaced thoughts I bore.  
For they were carefully guarded,
From lust or fetching whore.  

Gambling, drinking, greed, and vice.  
The box, I felt, would bind them in.  
So I could sleep with peace of mind.  
Without those thoughts of sin.  

In time the box grew dusty,
And my thoughts began to decay.  
I looked, but could not find them.  
Mind weary from the fray.  

Now I fear my thoughts are gone.  
Lost and blown away.  
Can you please help me find them,
Before I go astray?

Ron's thoughts are transfered to the box.

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Copyright 2004 © Ronald W. Hull


12/11/04