Just me and my thoughts,

Like being in traffic,

When I get distracted

There’s a chain reaction

And a series of near misses and crashes.

I don’t like being reckless,

But when my mind gets in a grind

It needs to find an escape from the trap

And all the cr** that closes in on me

And threatens my creativity.



It’s strange to me, but sometimes when I strive desperately to be free,

My words stop to rhyme and come out dense and full of nonsense,

And, in a sad rage, I want to throw them out like yesterday’s garbage.

I pray I never stop writing, even though I can’t control

The collisions between my mind and soul.