In a blink of an eye they fade,
back to their lonesomeness they play,
with thoughts captured from an active mind,
rolled and bounced about with childish delight.
Can’t be seen and yet they’re there,
like ghostly apparitions that come and go.
Stealing your creative thoughts from time to time,
leaving you with a blank stare and thoughtless mind.
These devilish imps love creative minds,
their source of food and playful past time.
Who would have thought that they’re living inside?
Only when words fail will you hear their ruckus,
a chaos against the stillness of your thoughts.
-The Elusive Scribe 031613-