Mad Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I live here free
Still in the sound of time,
A reason comes
But there is in there no rime;
In common words
That come and go,
Both backward and forth
Who'll know.

They took away
Fresh pot and new,
Imaginary soaked up
Among the few;
Always gleaming through
To a next day,
Bless full after requesting
What I'd say.

I answer not
Remembering what then comes,
Like a buzz of a bee
It continually hums;
Conversations
Turning away from reality,
Only splitting personalities
Inside of me.

Chatting to myself
Continually on,
Attention giving
And even poking some fun;
Seeing out the window
Garden and the walls,
Like a fragile autumn leaf
That whither and falls.

Then in a split of a second
I'm as born afresh,
Remembering
When my thoughts were less;
Restrained to those
From inner state of mind,
Then again I go
And this world leave behind.