Mad Man Poem by Tea Kawana

There comes a time,
When I am the mad man.
I can stand the reek of my unwashed mouth,
Saliva’s corpse laid at my lips,
Stale air with every breath.
I can accept my unpleasant odour,
I am drowned in sweat glory.
Water is not my essential.
When the dirt underneath my nails is ordinary,
And the soil on my feet make me feel comfortable,
As if in shoes.

Overtaken by my heart’s matter
I survey through the streets of my mind for the
Ever-sought solution.
Until I find it,
I remain homeless.
I am homeless.