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.
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