By Will
When joy reaches it’s peak, black leopard claws seer down on praying heads,
Just as the flower reaches its climax, water leaves you dry and seedless,
Winter blue confessions in blinding cheap light,
Circles of radiant illuminati, pointless wastage of a second.
inPsychotherapy 
Another telling poem, Will ~ I sense frustration & ambivalence hovering behind every word … as if a further poem lurks beneath ‘Thought’: a poem much more raw than this one; a poem that might just have surfaced instead if your defences had not contained it … a poem that may well have been titled ‘Is’. Love your final line ~ it’s an absolute blinder
Once again you have been able to sense the underbelly of the poem. The frustration and anger towards the daily tirade of our relentless thoughts. Makes me think about writing raw, which I think I will do for the next poem. Thanks Peter, much appreciated!