A'clown'in the'looney bin'
whispers and trembles-
his thoughts and anxieties
remain untouched,
but touched by society.
He fears and weeps
over trivial sorts-
'tis neither black nor gray
and all the while
laughing in hysteria.
'I think I'll crawl
up to the moon.'-
he recites the words,
yet doesn't know just
what he speaks.
His disillusioned grin
becomes the one link-
to the soul of sanity as
he wanders back and forth
to the edge of time.
The watery moon beams
and twisted visions-
make him scream.
Does the silence
make him crazy?
He writhes and wriggles
to get out of-
the white that binds
his mental state
is locked inside.
NMW-copyright1994-
Reason for writing:
I was pretty wacked out in 94 I guess.Please tell me what you think.
Birth sign: Taurus
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