The algorithmic patterns used
In studying the rats act
Gave me a fast track
The mathematics I calculated
In the attic showed me a safe path
For tactical movements used
In missing the mouse traps
I dreamt it's like a circus act
The way I stepped between the cracks
Flat foot to tip toed acrobatics
Just to spare my mothers back
Instead of counting sheep
I count paces in between the lines
From my location to the place
I call my safe haven
But when you're out of medication
And you feel your heart is racing
You hear the California raisins
Raising hell inside your basement
You're like an Indy car driver
All hopped up on coke and smack
Where you snap back to reality
So you can stick to the plan
It's like a 12 step program
To exit my house unto the beaten path
I let out a maniacal laugh
When I realize it's only 66 paces
To my therapists pad
Where she jots down my symptoms
After I explained crossing paths
With a black cat
She hands me a new batch
Pats me on my back
Sending me on my way with some wise cracks
About passing gas on her ash colored couch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem