With a black sense of humour everything goes! =)


PSYCHOTIC MOM


I got myself a psychotic mom.
She's just like a napalm bomb.
Goes of when you least expect.
Leaves you with a bad prospect.

In my blood, defected gene.
But what does it really mean?
What lies within my future to be?
Is it really safe to be me?

Worried hearts are lonely and sad.
Waiting for brains to go crazy mad.
Straitsjackets awaits, needles of sanity.
I'll be living in MadHouse City!

Worry is a peculiar thing.
Self-fulfilling prophecies lurking.
Do I wish for it to come true?
Do I wish to be like you?





Poetry by Daybreaker
Read 465 times
Written on 2007-01-08 at 14:19

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Kathy Lockhart
it appears in some of your last poem you are on the dark side of the moon creating some good poetry. This is one has me twisted between a feeling of sadness and a repressed giggle. Why is that? Well, no matter. Its rhythm is playing in my head now and the images are dancing.
2007-01-08