Kindred

My pen is your pen
Twenty years ago at 2am
Scratching the same sacred paper
With the same words
Screaming in our hearts
But not letting a sound
Escape the bedroom

My mind is your mind
Conjuring poems of similar kind
Tricked by the same muse
That comes when the sun goes down
Sometimes thinking they're masterpieces
And sometimes really seeing
They are helpless

My mind is your mind
Attacking you on Friday night
Until you're too tired to fight
And you stop struggling
Accepting what it tells you
That you are nothing
Always will be

My pen is your pen
Writing as good as you can
Your way out of there
My way out of here
Just a micro escape
Before breaking free