He Thinks I Write

He sees the words

He thinks I write

But he is oh so wrong.

They don’t come from me.


It’s a song I hear in my head

Then it bugs me until I go

I must sit down and pen this out

After that I can sew.

Then it’s in the shower

The song, it comes again

I’ve got no paper sitting around

Certainly, no pen.

It demands my attention

So now I have to run

“Are you sure this song says

That I have to use a gun?”

He thinks I write the noise

I hear inside my head

He doesn’t know it won’t go away

Until the day I’m dead.

he wrote


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: