there's a specter in the corner of an illustrated page,
and a lonesome muted stringling with a rapt remedial gaze,
the poverty of his language and the wealth of his emotion
bring him endless murky musings and unexpected frustration,
angst and madness weave the fabric of his life,
tomorrow might be better
but right now it feels like,
#&%#"@$#!"&*""%%
there's a panther wild and proud
behind the doors of a redolent cage,
and an undeveloped intellect filled with impotent and static rage,
and don't think you're exempt, if you earn a good weekly wage,
'cause your neighbour's going crazy
and insanity's contagious,
I know there's so much you want to say
but your tongue gets in the way
and sometimes it feels like
)"^*()"&$%#68%3*
I know there's so much you want to say
and the tumbrel of your mind gets in the way,
it's the same for everybody to degrees,
we all get hat foggy freeze and
sometimes it feels like
%&$#*%(&")""$%@*

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