poetry comes easiest
alone in cold and dark,
with a bottle in one's hand
and a dungeon in one's heart.

trapped inside the thought of you,
I cannot find the key.
a hopeless ragged prison
is all that I can be.

home always sounded pleasant;
I found comfort in your voice
and was swept into your gentle grasp.
I had no other choice.

a constant war inside my mind
to love or be afraid.
I asked my heart what I should do.
he said,
" a decision has been made"