A mind beautiful, a raving fool,
Often the last one I can trust.
A strident critic, logic twisted thick,
Braided in lockstep with a must.
I care to disagree, but can't break free,
It breathes sanguine despair.
Everything that I think, it rethinks,
For me leaves no room or air.
It talks and talks, in vivid chalks,
Screeching on mind's blackboard.
I sit down, with a permanent frown,
Imagine owning a sharp sword.
