It always seems my darkest dreams are wrought by day sun brought.
Rarely is reality an ample theme of thought.
I tend to lend a hue of humor horror and confusion,
To each insipid incident improved by my delusion.

Few can follow in the furrow forged by winding mind.
From time to time I try to track it and end up left behind.
So tangled is my train of thought, I come across as crazy,
I could explain each chain of thought, but really I'm just Lazy.