Voice in my Head

Sweeping the floor
So much to do
The voice doesn't knock
It just barges through
He pins me down
Tells me not to say a word
'Write or your dead'
Is all I heard
The voice tells me
What he wants people to hear
'You better write this down'
He says in my ear
I drop the broom
Arms above my head
Thinking of all the things
I should be doing instead
I sit at the table
Pen in my hand
The voice speaks
And I'm writing on demand
Loading the gun
The words keep going
So many letters
The ink keeps flowing
It's getting late
I can still feel the gun
And strangely enough
It's seems like just a bit of fun
It's such a release
To write these words
Yet the situation
Seems slightly absurd
I'm getting tired
The voice goes on
But when I turn to look at him
He is gone
A sigh of relief
Is sent into space
And it's into bed
That I race
Before he returns
With his voice in my head
And threatens me to write
Or he'll shoot me dead
If I ignore him
He goes away
And finds someone else
Who will play
But if I start to listen
To the words he speaks
I'll be writing for hours
Like a god damn freak
Damned if I do
Damned if I do not
But it's so much more fun
To give it a shot