The Part Down The Middle

CATEGORY

life

when it hurt I tell no one of the pain it's like being in a storm trying to hold back wind and rain I feel the strain on me I don't complain to nobody about what keeps on happening when you talk too much people stop listening what is screaming for if the sounds ignored can't sleep you won't hear me snore it's like a lions roar I rather pace the floor pick up a brush and paint some more on cardboard bored out my mind lateral thinking time puzzles to unboggle twisted pictures to unwind tangled coil scribble a lot of scrabble continually intrusively and to a troubling extent I must be obsess I must confess I am not The Poet Wize I said that one thousand times not one believes me I guess it's too creepy but believe me I been possess like looking in a mirror too long at a striking resemblance of oneself but it's someone else staring back like "what you looking at" will luck fail me if it break will heaven forsake me will I burn in hell or get crossed out at the stake I think I'll take the a chance I'll take the risk bust a fist to see the image fall apart turn the pieces into artifacts it's like explaining sanity to the other side of the brain like explaining sanity to the insane the side effect of it is a traveling migraine