I can never find a pen
in this chaotic room,
It's a mess.
Memories scattered on the floor,
Thoughts hang on the door,
words spilt out of the sink.
But when I find a pen,
I can't seem to write.
My thoughts are nothing but gray skies
It's like morbid chasing hopeful
My words bounce off the walls
and they're hard to catch,
you see my mind is this chaotic room,
and It's a mess.
