All alone in this room,
I feel weird and maybe insane,
Then like a bomb there's a boom,
Into my mind storms a train.
This train carries ideas and thoughts,
Which swirl throughout my mind,
Of words there's alot,
Some words are evil, some words are kind.
Put together at last,
Now searching I am,
For pen and paper I need so fast,
Down on the table when found these objects do slam.
A scribbling mess,
Barely known to me,
Unreadable, more or less.
With my work done I sit down for tea.
Now I'm certain I'm crazy,
These words make no sense!
Not sure what I meant, my memory's too hazy,
This is a poem? These words sound so tense.
Lacking any grace,
This 'poem' I wrote,
So I'll sit down and cover my face,
How did I get here? This place so remote?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem