The mind needs confusion and angst;
It shows we are still sane.
That’s why those who drown them out
Clearly shouldn’t be given keys
To a car or house.
Thought constipation
Leaves you with nothing but a
Headache and no words.
If only this cigarette would
Relieve me of this backed up
Garbage in my frontal lobe,
I’d be a willing addict.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem