That boy

Troubles on my mind
Troubles in my heart
Troubles in my soul
Where do I cast these troubles
Of mine?
I once loved a boy,
His name I've not forgotten.
We once sat together
In an old classroom
In a worn-out school.
Up and down the hallways
We ran.
Laughin our troubles away.
I once loved a boy,
His name I've not forgotten.
Where is that boy now?
has he gone to war?
Has he moved up east
Does he dress in suits
Has he settled
With a wife and 2.5 kids?
I once loved a boy,
His name I've not forgotten.
How sweet his name sounded
On my lips.
That boy,
I've not forgotten.
Even as the years rolled by.
That boy.

These words came to me when I was about to sleep last night. Sometimes it's strange that words just float into one's mind without making much sense. The poem's fictitious and only the first three sentences are kinda true.

I think bob Dylan said something to the same effect when he was asked in an interview on how he wrote his songs. He said the words just came. I think it's so hard to write something purposefully and consciously than when the words just "come". I mean that is quite an obvious fact that no one can argue. But what turns out best might be a mixture of the conscious and subconscious. Typically the editing part requires the conscious mind...