deepundergroundpoetry.com

Manic.

Thoughts are racing across my scalp
These flowers blooming in various shades
A pencil and paper to enact the message
The message coming into light

A stroke of genius lie upon the page
One felled swoop and in the bin it goes
Grab another sheet and ignore it for awhile
Type on the computer at a speed of miles �

Get up in a frenzy and spin the rounds
Put my feet in the air and head on the ground
Witness the world in two different lights
Maybe it'll change when day turns to night

Speak in a madness known only to the Hatter
Riddles and rhymes becoming the batter
Into a tea cake fit for two
Maybe this one's for me and none for you

Bend over backwards and sit up straight
The mind is reeling while pupils dilate
Arms moving strangely to their own devices
I suppose I'll retreat to my own odd vices

A picture is drawn in the tune of Picasso
Never mind that it sings more like Leonardo
But maybe a stroke of Michelangelo's work
All thrown in the bin of my wasted effort

Bedtime indeed is now quite a struggle
Twisting in the sheets like ones in trouble
Two sheets to four and five to three
Almost like a demon has overcome me �

The mind will keep spinning for hours on end
Wheels will keep turning with many a bend
The cogs and the bolts now loosened with ease
There's no way am I able to sleep in peace. �