It's a trick of the imagination
It's a tremble of words
A trickle till saturation
A treacle of the absurd

A blink to regain reality
I think therefore I have a malady
A drink and a pill
To recall of some storm
A brick
A window
A breach amongst sanity
Some ink to **** on to the page
Pad torn
And I'm a fink
A sage
A bone
And a bore
Minimum wage
On form
To earn
An audience with royalty
Score one for mortality
I'm a scribble
I'm a scribe
Free to reside
And shake up a globe
With ruin ingestures
And muddy brutality
And wonderless digestions
I am my own worst memory
A victim of vanity