What is a thought?
Merely a domino leading a chain of others alike
When the mind pushes it down into the next
Only chaos occurs when that domino strikes.

It is only the beginning
Of this maze of black and white.
Domino after domino fall with such force
That each white surface must grasp black dots tight.

Clutching they do
To ensure that all dots,
All individual aspects of each thought,
Are secured tightly against their pure surface.

But why is this so?
Why would a virgin thought hold on for dear life
To that slut of a dot.
This sad marriage changes the husband to be more like the wife.

Then the domino is no longer pure.
It is contaminated with splotches of doubt,
Hurt, anxiety, and all else that is not worthy
To become a part of that domino.

When the last domino falls,
Look back and think.
Are all of these dominos what they were originally intended to be?