Poetry By Me

My Mind

I'm trapped in my mind

And I can't seem to get out.

All these words are etched on the walls

Like words carved

on a person's grave.

Its a lonely place,

With no one but myself

and my own little fantasy

Of those I wish I knew.

The dripping of thoughts, felt

But never heard,

Splash in my head.

Shaking it

Harder and faster

Then any others would.

It never stops

They never quite seem

To make it into the world,

They stay caged in this prison.

Until it finally broke,

Until it cracked,

And it snapped,

And I lost all control.

Now the words flowing

Like a river of gold,

Down and down

Until the world finally shows.

Until these silent thoughts

Are screaming loudest,

Louder than any

Heard before.

And people listen

To this beautiful new sound

For they enjoy new things

And this is the newest of them all.

Who would have thought

I had so much in me

Who even dared to believe

I could write so freely!

I finally understand

Why they say we are mad

Because I never once understood

How you all can seem so bland.

How you fall into line,

So perfectly in sync

Like robots programed

Never to miss a beat.

Its as if you all

Share the same hopeless dream

Never having your own opinion

Must really be sad

For I'll never know

How that might sound

Because all I can hear

Is the drumming of my people

Uniting as one.

With a million different minds,

People like me

Understand one another

But not in a simple way

No,

In one much deeper.

We understand their souls

And listen to their hearts,

As if they just maybe

Were somehow our own.

And we converse

At every ungodly hour

Because we alone

Know our beautiful minds

Never rest.

Even in death

We will see each other through,

We will shine in the dark

Brighter than noon.

And we will fight

For this very right

We might even light

This candle despite

The fact that we could write

Even in the darkest hours of night.

No matter the time,

Place,age or even year

We will write

With every ounce we have

For it is the thing

Keeping us alive.

No matter how old we get

In thousands of years

We will live on

Through these thin little pages

Of words we own

And whished to hear.

L.O.M