| A Writer by Jason Resler There's a writer, who lives in my brain, He's doubtlessly inhaling cocaine. This guy, he never sleeps at night. The clock strikes a.m. He starts to fight. He could carve a novel or maybe a play, If I knew what he wanted to say. If I could find the key to let him out, Then I'd know what he's talking about. Here we sit, up all night again, I grab some paper and reach for a pen. No punch lines, no lyrics, no plots, I grab the bottle and pour a few shots. It's time to begin This poem is trite And I can't write At least not tonight Wait! what if... |
| The Hippy by Jason Resler There's a hippy in my head. Listening to the Grateful Dead. His mind is at peace, Though mine is not, He must smoke a lot of pot. His eyes are blood red. That hippy's so lazy, It's driving me crazy. I wish he'd get out of bed. He's got long hair And lives without a care, Swearing there's time to spare. When he sees his wasted talent He'll wonder where the time went. He lives in my head He stays there rent free And if it weren't for me The hippy wouldn't be. |
| Worries On My Mind by Jason Resler I've got worries on my mind. They're worries of the average kind. Like did I check the mail? And will I go to jail? I've got worries on my mind. These worries on my mind keep me awake. Some of them are real and some are fake. I toss and turn and my eyes are red. I've had my head at both ends of the bed, But I cannot seem to give myself a break. I've got worries on my mind. Will I have enough money? Will they think I'm funny? -Is that what I'm after? -The applause and the laughter? Or the love of my honey. Who can sleep with so much left to do? I have so many plans in my head, That I just can't take myself to bed, So, I'll leave it all to you. |