In the mood to blow out but never in
All day I take in and never give what I think
To a world that will only do what I say when said.
I must speak for myself, but refuse to listen
I’ve listened for years and never heard a sound so beautiful
As the voices in my head.
But I don’t know I’m crazy, if you listen,
I’m as right as I think I am.
Why would I search for a more right?
Why not live in my own head where everyone loves my thoughts
No objections, no wrong answers, a pool of blissful communication.
I produce plenty of mistakes to learn from,
And introduce formalities to myself that I appeal.
To pour my conscience into a river of words,
Steering with the thought of what sounds right.
To the people that spend lives decoding
An artists’ wild heart, who also crave
For a stream of light, that gleams
Correct to the eyes of you, dear lover
Of reading crap poems,
Because you don’t understand .
But you call it art, with a wondering thought
Of if other eyes don’t understand it the way you do.