Bad, Mad and Sad

Because my moods are fickle One moment I long for company The next moment I tickle Changes in the litany That entertains mood swings Repelling targets for which I long As on a butterfly’s wings I fly to destinations so wrong I end up burning my fingers In a vain hope to boost my perceptions Of balladeers and sad love song singers Whose melodies and tunes accentuate my conceptions When in a crazy cocoon I dream of a blue moon In which I cavort With the goon in a cartoon Where I abort Moves towards cleansing the malady That spews conundrums Heightening the perfidy That beats dissonance drums To pronounce me mad Cos I strike the wrong note When I feel sad To the extent where a plethora of confusion I connote.