I sit,
my papermate* will share,
tangible perseptions,
that I wish would dissapeare,
I hope wispfull thoughts away,
unfound fealings streaming by,
I wish I knew what they meant,
an all white chessboard,
sits at my feet,
the pieces laying about,
are the ones inside me,
that no one else can see,
the tune of my sorrow,
soon to come,
overlapping in my brain,
as I search my mind,
under the man made stars,
I ask you,
what is yet to come?