Russell G. Robison

ECHO CHAMBER

Repetitious and redundant
Are still words that come around
They travel through my head
In search of finding common ground

Trying now to say something
That I cannot get said
As they rise again and storm
Back through my aching head

Tiresome they are I tell you
a daily diatribe
Wrestling with the darkness in me
That I can’t describe

Words being said inside my head
And bouncing off the wall
Like in an echo chamber
‘Cause I’m crazy after all