Sitting down with my Chromebook
I have an idea that’s been swirling around my mind
I have to write about it to release the pressure building
Or I just might die
Like Don Quixote, my head is in the clouds
While I am chasing my windmills.
I can’t think of anything else,
It’s overtaken all my senses,
Sending chills down my pine
Just thinking about the idee fixe
It’s something I must do
Or I’ll never get it out of my system
If I don’t
It may just keep resurfacing
Until I decide to chase these recurring dreams
That is stuck in my head.
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