It’s A War When you write man one must forget That one is not living And I drink to escape from such burning dragons So much out there And I’m writing, creating a world While people move like robots and lemmings I don’t know But few people are living And I am not living, but writing The walls have a way of choking a larynx But I’m sane--- I think And keep pushing the pen, thinking lovely thoughts  (a difficult Thing to do) Remembering a guy that walked up to me At work and told me, he respected me for thankless job That I do and I didn’t think that anyone noticed or cared So I appreciate the sympathy and feel tough for enduring Instead of quitting, which the easy thing to do Which often the worst thing to do So I endure, squeezing islands for blood And I write squeezing the pen And rehash special moments A few in a myriad of consternation But I am thankful For the confusion and the street and the train Giving the day some focus or liberty