In My Mind Poem by Matthew Clemmons

As distant voices echo, inside deep dark caves I wonder.
Upon a hill, where the whipper will fly among an plunder.
Muttered words of tones absurd fill my ears a ringing,
'Can't you see I been set free', I yell in hopes of tearing,
Earlobes screen with filthy things, a cursing here coming,
From way down deep in my freaky freak where all light be shunning.
Could this be the place that has no taste, was took by some decease?
If I am lost I hope it costs the rest of precious things.
Go to hell was cast the spell which lie on wicked bone,
I'll stand alone, twilight my zone, an ask your blood i loan.
To the bitter theives of broken reefs to hang on charded doors,
And relive those days when your children played before they came no more…