Deep set stories,
Call for deep state minds.
It's the fire that I light up in my mind,
That burns me to pour my words on paper
It may not be Shakespeare good,
But it's a part of me that I offer to the world
I like the way the ticking of the clock stops
Everytime my pen touches paper.
I write about wars I've lost and won,
Demons that I've always feared but oddly need,
I die in a depressed mind of a tired youth,
It may not be the road that I chose
But now I call the lonely streets home
Too deep in my mind to comprehend reality
Maybe one day it'll all collapse,
Or maybe I'll forever be trapped in my head.
©irish.ly
I