Incarcerated Thought

I am sentence to life in prison, trapped in a brain cell. Alone with my thoughts, and they are screaming and fighting against each other. Struggling to be free, each believing, it has more right, than the others. To be heard, to be seen, or to be felt or touch. To be loved, to become known. To manifest to materialize. This prison is dangerous, dreams have died here.  And some escaped. Thoughts races each other. Some kill each other. Sit in judgement of each other. Accusing each other of right and wrong, good and evil. Yet some are in agreement with each other, and protect each other, from the ones that scheme against them. And this group of thoughts, like to call themselves ideals. My mind is a  revolving door, some thoughts get free, but can't stay free. Mental recidivism. Some grow old and die, in that ole lonely braincell.  Yet many new ones are born there. Created by joy, sadness, pain conditions, and situations.  Created by life.  Yes I got life with my thoughts, and memories that create more thoughts.  Yes I got life trapped in a brain cell with my thoughts. Yet I own the key, and the loudest thought of all, is the one telling me to turn it.