A Ten Ton Disorder

Fear, a tear, shock inside, I guess it's all the same, To find someone behind me has been calling out my name. Mixed, not fixed, my mindless journey, Sadly awakened and too often murky. I could, I would, if I were able, Contribute to the conversation at the table. If my mind could find the subject matter, But those ideas are all a scatter. I tried but lied and said I heard you, A simple question proves that it's not true. How can I get by with focus amiss, Life, at times difficult, thinking like this. I'm cursed, I guess, with this on and off switch, Sometimes a blessing, more often a glitch. Living and giving from out of the box, a bright imagination is the pure paradox. In the end, I will send you one last fleeting conclusion, There are few rewards with this kind of confusion.