***** off the top, and crawl inside my head.

Not gooey brains, but traffic lanes,

Is what you’ll find instead.

Whizzing past,

Honking horns.

Thoughts of music, thoughts of ****.

Not all is good,

It’s usually bad.

Mad and Sad are the ones I’ve had.

The cars have halted.

There’s been a jam.

Been called a sham.

For who I am.

The lights are out.

Here come the cops.

The thinking process

must never stop.

So there they are.

The cars,

They run.

Thoughts of coffee. Thoughts of fun.

They sit around.

Now ****** and bored.

Wait a minute, what could that be?

On all the windshields,

The water did pour.

It rained and rained

And rained some more.

Because outside the city,

The City of The Brain.

The boy’s eyes, not watered at all.

It’s what he had restrained.