Words have no meaning
And yet nor do sounds
These letters have no feeling
When I write them down
My pen is a tool
And yet I feel like no creator
I simply copy words down like a common fool
These thoughts are no straighter
Than a forest of weeds
They are burning inside me
But I cannot simply feed
Them out onto paper. You see,
I don’t know what all these thoughts even mean;
They are spoken in a language that has never been seen
So I write and I write and yet I still do not understand
How to lead them out by the hand,
Into the world for you all to read.
Now leave me alone, for it is more than just words on a page that I need.