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
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