So, I wasted away my day, packing up, stuffing my mind up with irrelevant relevance, all day kissing vipers and massaging crocodiles, that, I'll hop later, into my misery cabin, and slide down my cock-pit, get drunk on the smell of my clean duvet, and finally fly myself away into insomnia land.
I am going insane and I do not like this ride, yet, I haven't been crazy, nuts or bananas, just yet. Every time that I have to abandon my ship, they say something quite strange to me, "Good Morning..."
Strangely, I must be the only one riding, a crazy dinosaur-ghost at night, all alone, over here. Other wise, what is good about my insanity, that you have to ask about, each and every morning?
"Insane" Drew Poetry ~Andy Mwalasha
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