• these word make no sence to me,
    but i know them very well,
    they rush out of my head,
    and make my life a living hell,
    though i dont like it,
    i grab my pen and my poem book,
    i jot down the words as they befall,
    like rain of the pavement every single thing so precise,
    one by one they form lines and lyrics,
    as the words start to refrain,
    the things i write are like a cold winter day white and blochy,
    they are often dark and meaningless to the fragile soul,
    in my heart they start to burn a hole,
    every cruel word and mean thing,
    like a permenant stain,
    i only wish i could stop my never ending brain,
    i feel like a prisoner locked up in chains,
    but the keys are long gone and i start to go insane,
    but theres no mourning for me,
    just let me think these words through,
    i can live with them if they wouldnt hold me,
    all i want is to be free,