inSanity leaks from an old fountain pen,
built of Stone and filled with Water and brambled,
Sitting ontop of our eggs like a hen,
Will our eggs be all heated and scrambled,
Or will our speech all be rambles?

Sadness or sanity or insane are we,
to believe that we aren't all insane?
Madness or vanity or in pain you see,
if you know that we've got squishy brains,

Sadness inSanity, there she' blows,
as our minds twisted into a bend,
Sing this like you know how the tune goes,
Even if you don't know then pretend,
Or are we just Mobius bands?

*Note: This is my thought process on Monday June 24, 2002, at 3.00 am. I let my mind go. does it want to come back? Remains to be seen. (Was posted at same time as inSanity Sadness).

The Mental Disturbance of a Young Poet, growing older
I am rubber you are glue,
Boo hoo, boo hoo,
Disturbed,
Preturbed,
Four letter word,
Four letter word with cherry on top,
Cry.
Cry like.
Cry like you.
Cry like you mean.
Cry like you mean it.
Bitch.
Life is.
Life is a bitch.
Go.
Shopping.
Buy.
I like my jacket, don't you mutha 'fourletterword' er?
I think so too you vulgar sonofa 'fiveletterwordforfemaledog'.
That's right.
Bitch.
Life is.
Life is.

-elfboy-