Or Am I? Poem by Graham Jones

Scurrying thoughts go around and around
Like springs on wings
Chasing myriad clowns
A cold damp fog invades my head
Its malignant touch fills my soul with dread
A creeping rage of pure aggression
Which clouds my eyes in deep depression
Confusion reigns at every turn
The want to lash out, makes my stomach churn
This foreign sense fills my soul with fright
Yet still I fear the coming night
I long for sleep, a few hours peace
My mind to rest, my thoughts to cease
To write my feelings, may ease my pain
And prove to me, that I'm still sane
Or Am I?