Crazy
The talk I hear is crazy talk,
Peppered with imagined sleights;
The words I see are crazy words,
Bloody tomes in blackest nights;
The points I get are crazy points,
Fact and fiction not divorced;
The fear I sense is crazy fear,
Fuelled by paranoiac force.
The love you give is crazy love,
Compulsive with a twisted streak;
The dreams you have are crazy dreams,
Obsessively surreal and bleak.
Your world is such a crazy place,
Warped and blurred and plagued with doubt,
I may be mad, but not that mad,
And so, my dear, I'm getting out.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment