I try to find my voice in ink
I scrabble to find my night, my life, and my equivalty of greatness as a borrowed pen writes poetry on the back of an electric company bill.
I look for a peace inside myself but
Tonight, the words shall be elusive and not find me
I walk the path alone
Intelligence a curse
A gift some say
For me the riot in my head speaks volumes otherwise
I never was
I never have been
I don’t hear the song of the crowd
My life and my drummer beat at an individual pace
I look into my eyes daily
I am a stranger to myself
A repeat offender
Hatred for a peaceful ignorance I cannot accept.