Adventures in ink
tours of the mind
When clawing through the imagination
who knows what you'll find.
Draw yourself a symphony
write yourself a picture
Sing yourself the perfect moment
when you might have kissed her
Everyone is weird
and everyone is mad.
You're not the only tortured soul
in search of a comrade.
In the font of your imagination
you write yourself a world, yearning
where the dust inside of you
is the anger and the burning
But there are no more worlds to make
and so you weep
till you find yourself a new set of words
to, in your mind, dig in deep.