Born to be a Poet.

It's dark, it's goopy.
It makes lots of fun
I shake it and stir it
until it's done.

I broke it a while ago,
though no ones asking,
its something that clatters.
It rattles, it shakes.

It's bright, it's sharp.
It rips me and tears me apart.
I rip it out and keep it in a jar
it's lots of fun.

What is IT?
you may ask
it's my brain of course!

Now quick here's an ax.
You know what to do.
Complete the task.
What are you waiting for?

Swing and chop.
Set it free
It's a brain that's trapped.

Woe is me.
What is this idiocy?

Shut up get on
Bring me the hashing
What are you asking?
OH, why aren't you axing?

Okay fine it's not just a brain
if it'll help you not hesitate

I wish to be free
for every brain is in a trap,
every brain wants to go back.

A brain is not apart of the body,
but an alien that needs to potty
I'm hankering for a piss.

I'm in a jar of my fluids,
trapped in a skull,
now don't be dull.

Start your swing high and tight,
take the ax,
get me out of this tonight!

Oh this is getting dull
if you don't swing
its the trigger ill pull!

But the stranger refused and with a bang, a flash, the brain turned to a hash, we will not know if it was truly trapped.
Was it an alien trapped in its muck?
Brains in skull cages stuck in strange bodies.
Was it just insanity or a foreigner who'd gotten confined?
What happened to the stranger it was asking? The one left behind.
Many questions never answered and left in the mind, many lives now altered.
Searching for what we won't find, for its head is now sludge
dripping on walls and gooping on the floor.