12 May, 2009

Hey You

Anonymous

There are times
I hate the racing rhymes
Rushing through my mind
Retracing past crimes
Drawn and quartered
Why am I bothered
By the psychotic choices
Urged on by the unholy voices
Whispering incoherent messages
Staying up all night
No perfect words
Shades drawn tight
The bed my enemy
Someone says I’m fixable
Sunlight filtering
A fire burning
Through the cracks
Through hole in my head
One idea stuck in my brain
Hey you,
I’m sick
Lock me up
Throw away the key
Good morning, Good night
Hope this isn’t Good-bye…

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