Notes in Red Pen.

Notes in red pen, written on a wet lunch where people surround me, but i'm not sure where i really want to be.


Anywhere but here, where i have to choose a side, or continue to be in the middle of a war which isn't a war.


So i do what i always do, turn to pen and paper, and relate.



I don't know which poem this is, or if it really counts in my series.
I have some more poems somewhere, but it would take all night to type them up. So maybe later.