Pensanity

PENSANITY As of now It’s like before The future of then Death lives anymore And other men Grow on my grave Sometimes the air smells familiar And the weather feels like a dream The people all think that I’m still here But I’m just a blank T.V. screen The wires are crossed The circuits are blown As of now It’s like before But the present of then Is given no more At once I am fighting many men My sanity is kept in my pen