All the poems I seem to write
Remain a mystery
Until the voice inside my head
Says it's time to set them free

Don't remember when I first tuned in
To all the inner noise
And don't recollect it giving me
A say in any choice

I'm just along for the ride
In this topsy turvy game
A conduit of sorts
If you must give it a name

As I put pen to paper
My hand twitches as it flows
What will be is guaranteed
Only do the voices know