26 March 2015

Who's Insane

You question me and my evil grin
felt like an infection under your skin
you tried to scrub me off, dig me out
the cure was simple admit your doubt
But being stubborn you don't agree
now if you do there's no guarantee
the deals off and your world's in a spin
Spinning, feeding the chaos within
it's your prisoner, your detainee
whatever you do don't let it free
It's a queer thing we don't talk about
keep your voice quiet try not to shout
I will never again feel chagrin
I've a feeling the disease will win

Struggled to keep at bay the chagrin
refuse to give up and let it win
forgot what I was writing about
I ground my teeth so I wouldn't shout
I'm the warden and the detainee
my own captive never to be free
locked in my mind somewhere deep within
What I deal with would make your head spin
ask those that have been, sure they'd agree
If they can talk, there's no guarantee
came in with sanity left without
touch of insanity I've no doubt
You can't tell as I strip off my skin
I'm infectious, I say with a grin

Copyright © 2015 by Patrick B Vince

No comments:

Post a Comment