Tick tock, my mind is not a clock,

It is not rhythmic nor reliable.

My mind wanders from topic to topic,

Book to book,

Game to game,

Always indulging but never staying.

 

It pours my soul into one thing.

My brain craves to spoil itself.

It wants to obsess over a game,

Just play,

And play,

Until it gets bored.

 

I will indulge in an activity for weeks,

It will be all I do,

And mostly think about,

But then I can’t.

It becomes apathy.

My mind searches for something else.

 

I have played hundreds of games,

Some I play for a day,

Others I drown myself in.

I own over a hundred games,

I have finished about 11.

 

My mind is not a clock,

It wanders and wavers,

wavers and wanders.