These thoughts are lego days built up, knocked down and strewn around the ground, the pattern sways.
These thoughts are jumbled bricks, tit bits, uneven sticks, Matchstick men of matchstick cats and dogs.
These thoughts are frozen icicles on frozen logs.
Burning coldly in front of a ghastly fire of pain and fury. It warms me.
Cosy up a little closer.
Let me tell you a story.
© G.P Williamson 2018 <— Click for Instagram.