I’m a poet, therefore, insane.
I’m a mystic, so, I am mad.
Verbal lunacy is the game I play.
I am obsessive compulsive
about tinkering with words.
I can’t stop chasing for the perfect phrase
that would pin my vision to my mind.
Mystical butterflies land on my brain,
rest, and fly away. I can’t stop stabbing
them with words. The day will never come
when a magical phrase will pin an alive
butterfly on my mental cardboard, yet I
can’t stop. Neither can you, I suspect.
We are mad about words!