Late Night Aspirations

Idea after idea

The golds flowing down the canals in my brain

Through the cracks and turns

Screaming hot, but flowing

Wincing but I guess it feels good

Until its rivers dry up

Then the pain grips me

The steam bursts through the geysers in my head

With it, all my ideas

Just stinging dryness

Until I wait for the next river of gold

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 21 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

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