Today
-17 August 2005-
It lays there before me
Paper, pencil, and dust
This need of mine is a must
To express how I feel and just
Have others know that
I’m a writer, not just for show
The sick, twisted thoughts
Enter my mind as time
Seeps through my hands
And shrivels up like a dying plant
And I can’t keep up, I’m running
So fast just so I can say
“Ah ha! I’ve caught you at last!”
But as I run, you drift farther away
And I still haven’t captured your essence
On paper or with pencil
Today...
