Empty thoughts

look where my thoughts
spout..
and the fountain is dry..
Maybe the thought maker
saw me lurking..
and hid to keep secrets,
I pretend,
as time passes,
seeing secrets churning
in the myre..
a huge heart shaped shovel
drips with intentions,
I see integrity in the mould,
respect and dignity dyed
in the wool..
the blue wode stains..
where tears have formed
rivers as threads of gold.
where thoughts can
channel..
There's thoughts never
seen light, restrained by
Kindness and empathy..
and little escaped ..
random and impulsive
thoughts, gasping for
air,
I'm scraping the crud with
a nail where depressive
thoughts hang ..like bats
into darkness stare,
Limp in cold dark
night air..
when a bolting light
breaks through...
like the sun at dawn,
that must be an original
thought being born.?
is it really mine..?
can two minds think alike..?
I think, therefore I am ..
right..