Cogs Of Confusion. Poem by Jake Harris

The spinning cogs inside my head, I cannot stand the sound
Twisting, Turning, Furnace Burning brings me to the ground.

My brain it pounds and dances round to the beat of many drums,
While my chest feels tight my heart explodes like the barrel of a gun.

Im happy though can you not see, the way I am tonight?
I'm feeling fine, external bliss, yet still I feel contrite.

My thoughts impure, confused, defiled, brought down by leaden weights.
To act on them may open doors, but closes many gates.

I scream in vain to gods on high, sitting on their thrones
To help me please, to fix my mind and ease my wretched moans.

But silence is my answer back, of course why would they care?
So silence is the key it seems, and into space I stare.

I'll hide the truth those ugly sounds and songs inside my head
I'll hide it all and walk upright, laughing till i'm dead.