Slightly Insane Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

move on tomorrows
serving him but of and like
a prick off that rock!

just being a flake
ain't what it is made to be
ilk-reality

remedy or pain
remedy in turn; because?
remedy on time

i've been deprived but
i've suffered for daze, my prize?
i've FED waste worthy

with that negligence
believing time could be shelved
my om escapes me!

grasping innocence
guffaw thoroughly Scopes trial
absent was my own

song sung to dark sounds
something like Aleister Crowley
wasting away days

of indifference
unfounded yet similar
lost discoveries

Flayed, yet somehow still
"strawman", and "thick as a brick"
your slightly insane...