Porcelain Pooetry Narrated · Shared

Origin of Thought

So often I sit in thought while on the pot.

Whilst matter trickles and oozes in a quiet onslaught.

If I sit long enough, the molecules change.

And come in shapes and sizes of every range.

But far be it from me to understand the chemistry.

As I wipe with the remnants of yet another fallen tree.

A Porcelain Pooetry narrator

Narration coming soon

Narration coming soon for this voice