It's three am
My day has just begun
A million things run through my head
while the rest of the world is still in bed

I cant stop thinking
My mind is full
It's overflowing
Seeping through my skull

I wish I could turn it off
but I have no choice but to carry this cross

I write and I write
Until my fingers bleed
My pen runs dry
I have no reprieve

This is what my life has become
A poet, a writer?
Or a dreamer, dancing to the beat of a different drum...