Part of my brain writes a book
another part ponders existence
elsewhere I store my knowledge
and forgot where I put it, so I seek

Another part has to worry about
where I put my things and I worry
that part isn’t working, as I keep
forgetting where everything is

One part is plotting this poem and
wonders where all the parts are
that I need to name, it just wandered
off, so I am left to write here alone

Somewhere in my brain is the part
that constantly malfunctions when
I run upstairs to get something and
forget what it was I had to pick up

So when I don’t listen, or when I
seem to ignore you, know that I am
not the one that’s at fault, my brain
scatters around me, but I happily live

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