My thoughts are as many as shells on the shore,
Their topics diverse as the shells’ shape and form;
Constancy of motion is ever necessary
Even when my body has remained stationary.
Faster than my tongue go the thoughts through my head,
As I feel a pressing need of something to be said.
Yet when I am asked a question that is of much more import,
My mind is blank and thoughts are inaccessible to sort.
Filled with everything from my workload to my dinner,
Relentlessly, thoughts take my fancy, and most do not simmer.
Scattered though they be (and most lacking memory),
They know always to return back to those for whom I yearn.
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