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.
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