The human mind.
What a strange thing.
A massive void of infinity
In something smaller
Than a watermelon.
Though not measured by science
Or seen by the eyes
Its presence is felt
Its existence
Never in doubt
Capable of making
The greatest dreams,
Gathering knowledge,
And store within
A vast expanse.
Yet the mind is not a wonder
But rather something else
A place where fears hide
Where hate and pain festers
There it grows and spreads
Though at the same time
The mind is strong
Defending itself
Fighting to be strong
Recovering from hurts
Though a writer may create a thousand world
Forming hope and wonder for countless others
Fear though builds an ironclad prison.
Trapping the soul
Breaking the heart
Such a strange thing
The mind is
A place where light and dark exists
Where pain and hope lives
Where creativity dwells
This is the human mind
Poetria 1839 