There are poems inside of me that paper can't handle.

The kind of poems where people would cry for hours, and think that all my emotions were some kind of scandal.

To much emotion get provoked by words

So much emotion that some people walk on the side of the road their words slurred.

Or maybe a kid that cries themselves to sleep

Only to wake up in the morning screaming with another day to reap

One piece of paper cannot hold the deepest dark secrets in my head

not even the monsters that haunt me under my bed

A pencil does not have enough lead to write a poem on how I want every single demon dead.

The reality of the world is sometimes to much to deal with

so we most;y focus on what we feel with

Thats why poems are about how love f***ed us over

thats why with a piece of paper and a pencil we can lose our composure.

So, i'm sorry but just a piece of paper and a pencil can't hold all of my deep thoughts

But theres always another battle won, and another battle fought.