My Sphere of Madness

This is where I empty my brain. Read, or don't. I'll leave that up to you.

No poet

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I’m no poet, my words are simple and plain.
A resort when all other means seems in vain.

Sometimes they come naturally, they find me somehow,
and all I do is receive, say my thanks and bow.

At other times, they hide, and I have to seek them out.
Finding words to compliment my feelings, that’s what it’s all about..

Engrossed in my darkness, feeling lone and weak,
I write down the words I can’t bear to speak.

That’s when I search for my words in all the wrong places,
finding them hidden behind unfamiliar faces.

It’s a strange thing, really, how words can lead you astray,
and at the same time they will guide you back to you way..

I often find that my word making my head spin,
when I thought I was loosing, they make sure I win.

But usually my words take me where I don’t want to go,
telling me things I really don’t want to know.

They dig into my soul, and they’re not very kind,
revealing everything I’ve buried in the back of my mind.

When I pick up my pen, and let my thoughts drift,
they grab the chance, attacking precisely and swift.

Always finding the right spot to cause me distress,
turning my mind into a absolute mess.

Still, I keep on writing, I can’t tell you why.
There’s no explanation, even if I try..

These words, they force their way into my mind,
and I can’t resist writing down the once that I find.

They’re not always cheerful, they often make me sad.
And sometimes, the fact that they’re there, drives me mad.

Words are for writer and poets, not me.
They need someone that understands what they can be.

I believe words are like people, they have different sides,
and you can’t really know what that within them resides.

Yet, I scribble down everything, and nothing at all,
knowing it’ll pick me up when I fall.

My words are my refuge, they keep me from going insane.
And the fact is, it doesn’t really bother me that they’re plain.

Without my writing, my head would probably explode,
or at least my sanity would crumble under the heavy load.

I am not a poet, just an admirer of every word and phrase,
and the astonishing ability they hold to amaze.

Written by Ine

March 13, 2009 at 01:38

Posted in Unhinged

Tagged with , ,

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