I think I might be writing garbage
but this isn't a computer program
that should hold garbage values
it should follow some scheme
What the hell was I thinking?
I was writing and writing
dumping all this piece of crap
over at the people who know their ****,
and I don't mean they're but their ****.
Yes! people always try to misunderstand.
And so do I, Yes, I do!
I misunderstood my family, friends,
and other people - relatives to be exact.
Oh the list might go on and on.
Usually I'm chill as hell.
You wouldn't hear me complain
I'm a real cool and nice guy
but if I'm mean, it's cause
I mean to be mean to you!

You know what I mean?

A storm brewing at the back of my head.
Moving towards my temple region.
A forecast of words to come.

Ideas, as clouds, forming in my mind.
Thunder strikes, a bulb lights up.
Words come pouring after.

As the land of script, the words
touch. Influenced by the winds
of doubt, they may stray off path.

*Here I am, waiting
for the storm, thunder roars but
no words.