A Busy Head


Lost in a world that wasn't my own,
my thoughts all a blur, with a heart far from stone.
"It wasn't all me",
I say as I stare,
At a teacher so mad
I could burn in her glare;
By the grey in her hair she swore I had wronged her,
but what did she know how much I would ponder.
What did she know of my confused little head,
Always the talkative one she had said;
But it's only my voice,
Just me and my person,
My big personality can't keep a curse;
A poke and a "hey", away I would go,
Talk the legs off a donkey, hell what a show;
Not a real show, just the world in my head,
Can't draw you a picture, but my words can instead;
My mind sees the picture,
My heart feels the colour,
My voice brings the flavour,
Your face brings the wonder;
And so it goes on, imagining a nation,
The head is a place full of awe and damnation.

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