Writing on steps mind filled of hopes and dreams some of you some of me and everything else, thoughts colliding and crashing in my head filled with smoke and ashes of once complete thoughts, such a confused and clouded mind how can i write a poem when I'm as proper as improper i don't, what you call this is what i call it, what you see in this is what i see so don't dig deep it only goes 2 feet don't look far its all in front of you