crazy
In a whirlwind of numbness,
there is nothing but madness
this pen is my release,
the ink it is my blood
everything I see and everything I do
haunts my life, my everyday
it tells me I am crazy
Crazy am I,
a young girl who acts on impulse,
who listens to her feelings as thought they are a parent,
or rather a best friend
Crazy am I,
an old woman, who spent her life alone
searching for ‘the one’
but finding no one
Crazy am I,
a young boy, who fights for justice
there are no greater oxymorons,
but he does what he is told
Crazy am I,
the Lesbian, confused as what to feel
scared of the reaction of her loved ones,
she hides in shame
Crazy am I,
the killer, who’s so fed up with life,
he wishes to take another,
perhaps his beloved wife?
Crazy am I,
the teacher, who devotes his life
to a robot of audiences,
faith is in his nature
Crazy am I,
the poet, who writes these very words
she spends her days deep in thought,
but seems to have no cares
Crazy are we,
these people, who have felt all too much
all here for different reasons, none matter.
the fact remains that we are,
all indeed
crazy.
