Ramblings of a Mad Woman

 

Pen in hand as the voices demand

Words keep screaming

no outlet seeming

My head is throbbing

My sleep, it is robbing

Is there no relief

from this endless grief?

Popping countless pills

In hope of fixing my ills

This might make me smile

I think I’ll change the style…

Maybe I should get

out-of-town,

Perhaps a change

can flip this frown…

Seems to me my style’s

the same

Sentences are longer, but

still pretty lame

Is it safe to assume

that I’ve gone insane?

I started this one day ago,

I wonder, will the words

be there to finish to finish it

today though?

Such an amateur I find I am,

Compared to so many

of my newfound friends;

Will my words be

worth their time?

Are they inspiring, witty

or remotely sublime?

Uh-oh, the is baby is calling

guess this is to be this pieces’ last line…

Copyright© 2006

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