The mind is a complex thing
It doesn't turn like the axels or gears of a clock
And more often you'll find that the door you opened
Will quickly forever lock
It doesn't have a definite shape
No space and no size
It isn't warped or twisted either
But has more shadows than you'll ever realize
You can't wind it up
Like your dear old music box
And more often what you've found
Was already always lost
It doesn't bend or break
Like a twig or rubber band
It doesn't stretch or go about
Trying to find things to understand
The mind is very useless
But it's somewhere you'll always find
Your thoughts are free to scream and laugh
Because they've got a place to be inside