Somethin’ tells me
somethin’s brewin’.
making sense makes
no sense.
don’t have
a clue in
hell’s ringing’
its bell for your
sin.
that man you just
walked by
sleeping on that
park bench
under that paper
is no longer
angry.
he gave up.
you got cards dealt.
S _ _ T keeps happening to you.
thinking positive doesn’t help.
killing flies and mosquitos
only makes manic depressed
psychos even madder.
might as well
go back to sleep
and think all this
over.
