When this madness first set in It only made sense To search out a good diagnostician Trustingly sharing my story With strangers with degrees Quickly realizing no clinician Could fix what's alien me
I search for someone wise and trained Instead I found myself slowly drowning In a system of judgmental rain My very heart and soul an open subject Sharing my uncommon delusions Over and over explaining My poetic conclusions
Yet those who have never ever lived a rhyme Are prone to leave the unexplained behind Who simply label you from a book Quickly stop reading and give you that look A book of broken soul’s They write ya a prescription and send ya home ...............................................................................
Traveler Tim (Honestly don't remember writing this)