Have you ever heard the ramblings of a crazy man?  They're often like the mumblings of a sleep-talker. Unfiltered, unearthed from the blackened crevices of the burned truth.
     They're rooted in the torn up letters that you thought you threw out. In the prison of socially acceptable things to think
That send you into a whirlwind of what ifs.
     They're in the things everyone knows are true but are too paralyzed by fear to admit.
     In the vapid humor that covers up the paranoia. In the fear still lingering after the emergence of the Monster Town under your bed.
             But what does one do with these ungodly demons?

Perhaps the answer lies in the disregarded chemically corrected ramblings of a "crazy" man.
But who will be the one to open their ears
and tape up their letters
and open their cells
and embrace their fear for the greater good of the fading humanity?