I
am a psychopath,
My
life would end more like Sylvia Plath,
I
have got a very sick mind,
Maybe,
just one of a kind.
My
life’s been a great distress,
For
over li’l things I obsess.
Like
a symmetrical light wave from a lantern,
World
for me is just a beautiful pattern.
Numbers
make more sense,
Than,
words ever did.
Every
teacher since pre-school mention,
I
never paid them any attention.
Like
an element that is radioactive,
I
was so hyperactive
That
I end up in loads of trouble,
No
matter how much the punishments double.
I
know, I never meet eyes,
Makes
‘em think I am full of lies.
I
never feared the paranormal,
As
thoughts about death for me is normal.
You
might wonder,
Where
are the rhymes?
There
are no rhymes,
But
patterns, and only patterns
Look
closely and you will see reality,
Of
my pale mentality.
I
am not a Poet,
I
am not a Physicist,
I
am not Creative,
I
am not Original,
I
am not your Friend,
I
am not your Lover,
I
am just a Psychopath.
No comments:
Post a Comment