My mind is like a pancake undercooked.
A concentrated drop dispersed, unheeded.
Sovereign, at least that’s how it looked,
until the shape solidified when heated.
The thickened liquid poured into the pan,
tumbled towards the edge and tried to flee.
Was flipped forthwith it turned a shade of tan.
A vivid image in my head I see.
My fluid thoughts extend beyond my skull.
Non-stick, my head a pan that has no sides,
begins to lose momentum as I mull.
Ideas flow as long as mixture glides.
Until the liquid’s journey spreads it thin.
My thoughts a mess, and nothing left within.