The ever optimistic fool sits with sapphire teals rolling frantically from eyes which see too much
The heart that has been torn, tread upon and dragged in the dust can not bare the burden
So it rips apart,spilling it's ragged contents Into the gutter
There is nowhere left to run and your not really sure there's a need to leave
But a return back from this pessimism would be a delightful notion
As thoughts twist and turn
Like a never ending last spin on your noisy washer
Faster, more fragmented, frantic and free
The land has been freshly ploughed
The arguments are over
You have used your voice so as not to be seen as invisible
You may have spilled it all and god knows where we go from here
But it's certain that we will take not a step backwards in our endevour to be heard
Scratch an itch and it will get bigger
Keep picking at my scars and I will not be able to give you my free thinking happy mask that I manage to wear so well
So well indeed that I truly forgot this part of me ever existed
To stand upon the highest hill in the middle of a storm that could match my own
To meet my match in natures force
This alone will help me sleep
The dreams are so haunting
And I'm drowning in the neglectful thoughtlessness of  clowns