In Between Poem by William Mowell

Sitting here looking at the moon
Just like that night in June

The radio playing a song that I can't remember
But the tune still gets me, even in September

Neon stars replace the real ones
A different town, but still the same son

Every night another suicide
Another one for the shifting tide

I promised myself I'd never leave the night
But today I sit staring at a classroom light

All these faces don't mean a thing
All these faces are just a worthless fling

A vacation from that which holds my soul
This town is nothing but a big hole

Nothing that can't be sewn together
Something for a needle and leather

I'm in the middle of nowhere without a prayer
I've started to pull off another layer

Now I'm in between heaven and hell
I started here, and this is where I fell

Only dead men have seen what I've seen
And those dead men live in the in between

My ticket has expired and I'm all out of dimes
Can't get out, so I guess I'll chop me out a line

This in between is what they call life
I prefer to cut it with my knife