The Scribbler

Why there are voices in my head Contrasting to what I get Grow up, grow they say You have to find your way If you haven’t started yet How far will you get What if you reach nowhere? What if you are too late to be there? The voices are just too smart I don’t think they even have a heart They say these are the ways of world You have to run run and run They command not to look back They insist it’s just too dark They say there is a lot to fear I say I don’t care I tell them that I can see mum back there They ask how will she get here Mirages are not for real Shut the fuck up and get over the ordeal I sigh that I have no one They question the need for someone They insist it’s not a usual journey It’s over friends, family, luxuries and money I whisper am I mad I ask if I am mad I shout if I am mad I scream if I am mad But the voices just don’t come back