It's weird, the stuff that comes out,
The way other people see it.
The perfect lines that appear on my canvas.
Always perfect, always strange.
...
I headed to the library
and slid the books out of my bag
I grabbed a pen and paper
As he watched me
...
There once was a man who saw a big house,
he looked like a toad and walked like a mouse.
He saw a diamond shining crimson red.
He thought to himself 'the owners are in bed'.
...
Glancing over the word 'inbox' written in commonly platitudinous lettering.
Sigh. My inbox is like a ghost town.
Apathetic cracked ground. Lifeless.
Dying tumble-weed drifting past shattered dust.
...
All the dreams that you would remember,
If you had never died.
The days you searched for help hopelessly,
Along with those nights you cried.
...