I had my happy coloured marbles,
All in a drawstring bag
I even had my wits about me
When they all said I was mad
I've since lost my marbles,
My wit's been licked it seems
I'm still searching for them
While you analyze my dreams
Now they call me mellow yellow
Since that slick spark has dimmed
No longer a manic madman
Calmed by my tonic and gin
Why does there always seem to be
An exchange, creativity for conformity
A need for insanity to be confined to brevity
And quickly quelled by righteous authority?
May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 7:19 PM UTC
I had my happy coloured marbles,
All in a drawstring bag
I even had my wits about me
When they all said I was mad
I've since lost my marbles,
My wit's been licked it seems
I'm still searching for them
While you analyze my dreams
Now they call me mellow yellow
Since that slick spark has dimmed
No longer a manic madman
Calmed by my tonic and gin
Why does there always seem to be
An exchange, creativity for conformity
A need for insanity to be confined to brevity
And quickly quelled by righteous authority?
Just another lost psychonaut reminiscing about brief departures into madness...
`~05/10/2021
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