My mind rattles like a rattle,
with snippets from forgotten dreams.
They rattle to announce their presence,
but are unable to escape
the labyrinth of the unconscious mind.
Faces, colours, ridiculous moments
jostle with each other for attention.
But in the realm of my consciousness,
their faint existence
fails to find expression.
I know it’s all there.
A moment.
A vision.
A line.
A face.
A journey.
Dead relatives
and forgotten friends.
Or just an abstract impression.
All waiting to tell a story—
rattling for attention.
