Mad Poem by Chris Townsend

I am behind I feel your hand in my head
Your threat, my game, my feeling in depth of sound,
I realise this isn't new, it's something understood
From my feet, swollen against the slate, dragged to the ground,

Show me the map, the way to see treasures
Yet to be found,
Then take me to one side
Slap my head around,

Put this crimson cloud that attacks against
The swell of storm,
Then raise your battle flag
To be something different from norm,

Hear this battle cry as hordes of zombies shuffle
To their derisory fate,
Then see as I stand firm my pride, my thoughts,
My fist in a battle worthy state,

Place this lad, let calmness roll
Across his weary age beaten face,
Then place this medal on his chest
Never mind that he is absent from the human race,

Give him hope then take it back
Don’t give him what he needs,
Life is really simplistic when your deaf
No matter what madness he pleads…