if I sit inside an empty barrel
am I an imposter of what may fit there

answers to my questions
don’t always cradle my thoughts
with sparks of enthusiasm
but they possibly could
release a desire, a will
to continue on
with making dreams come true
inside my lonely castle

then there are those heathens
with their butane torches
chasing after me
trying to knock down my walls
a lifetime took to build

thoughts run faster
throughout my mind
giving me a headache
and wishing
this empty barrel
had a cover to it
in order to hide me better

weep
knowing
this barrel
could have been
a home to somebody