The Joy of Writing
Pour out the soul and watch the patterns
It forms as it spreads across the floor.
Decipher the pattern and win a prize—
Shiny new self-knowledge!
But be careful—
No one eludes one like oneself.
The mirror is a shadow,
And the lines betray the center.
The rush to simplicity is deadly;
It makes the soul suffer
As the mind claims victory…
And the fragile body falls.