Fog, It rules my mind, erasing my thought,
Slowing removing traces, of things I have been taught,
People speak, I listen, then forget what they all said,
I begin to only know the now, not even books I’ve read.
But just ‘the now’ is strange and weird,
My brain, by unseen hands being seared,
Burnt away, by age and time, did it ever exist?
Only shades, of grey thoughts, somewhere, do persist.
Is anyone still out there, faces blurring and unseen?
Just words I see in front of me, appear upon a screen,
Did people ever even exist, my mind it cannot tell?
As I wander eternal dimensions, my life–just a shell.
If this fog has made my life, a pinhole through a card,
Even trying, is it of worth, now my life has been so marred?
All those things I used to know, are all just now misgotten?
And am I, myself, in this last of days, totally forgotten?
Jack Wolfe Frost is the Eternal Rebel; he rebels against everything which may have the word “rules” or “behave” within it, whether explicit or implicit. Born in Sheffield, UK, in 1956; he first started writing in 1982, as a hobby--dreaming that perhaps one day he might try and publish something. In his working life, he has enjoyed success in many diverse areas, including running his own company twice. Now older and wiser, he has once again taken pen to paper--looking for conformity to smash and rules to break…