Ah yes.
This is what I decided to write.
That reminds me of the workings of my mind.
How feelings creep upon me, though some are hard to find.
Twisted thoughts of multitude, scores thats fall like sheet,
And sentimental oddities that bring me to feet.
Little men of little voice grow and turn to me,
Revising ways of how to act, and who I'm supposed to be.
Always when I lose my grip and start to be undone,
Another set of mind takes over for another run.
Oh, and I should go do my launders. You fantastical art-maker, you.