The best poem   I ever wrote is still inside my head ,
The best poem I never wrote simperly went to bed ,
And as time flew by ,
My thoughts and I said farewrell  ,
and tbe greater hell ,
I knew quite well ,
Forget me not ,
i need a pen and paper .
But failing that
I need a pen and paper .
In tbe street ,
On my bike ,
I know my words will perish .
Just you and I as time goes by ,
With no sword drawn beside me ,
and off they go ,
and like a dream are lost forever inside me