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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required All I can be if it’s left up to me Is a brain in a tank full of bubbles Can’t hear it, can’t see it, I only can be it, And that’s just the start of my troubles It was no disease that killed most of me But a brain catcher down at the docks Now, my one sensation, a dull static hum And occasional electric shocks I think I recall being near six feet tall A man who could see, smell and hear I could feel hot and cold and I thought I’d grow old With only arthritis to fear As a brain, I’m estranged from my mortal remains I know that this dark is a sham I cannot see light in the day or the night But I think… and that means that I am With stimuli lacking, my sanity cracking When will my mad captor devise A restructured me, so that I can see Through some poor soul’s extracted eyes *** At last, there is light, goodbye to my night Will I frighten or will I delight I know how this goes for history shows Should you see me then you shall take flight Through this hocus pocus, I cannot yet focus Is that the doc’s form lurking there? I once read the book and however I look I’m gonna give people a scare My vision is clearing and so is my hearing I see I have rather nice hands And I have a soft voice… did the doc make a choice For my voice doesn’t sound like a man’s “It lives,” the doc cries with his beast by his side Did the monster manoeuvre the knife It stomps to my side with its arms open wide I think I’m the bloody thing’s ‘wife’ But his nightmarish fun has barely begun As I had it away on my toes But he’ll have his fun because I cannot run… In stilettos and pantyhose
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