Oh The Thinker there upon the rock,
cast from bronze so very long ago,
I can only imagine what haunts you,
as you set there facing times clock,
never moving to say hello or leave the snow.
Do faces long gone come from the past?
Do the menaces of love lurk in your mind?
Do pains return from a friend untrue?
Do the ideas force you to look and contrast?
Do poems slowly become intertwined?
The world may never see your minds mystery,
forcing thinking to become your long fate,
and letting you watch the world fall through,
again and again as time repeats history.
Oh thinker- why set there in a dreamy state?
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