As the sun starts to rise high in the sky,
My world starts to fade into black.
Illogical thoughts swim through my foggy mind
A corner for sanity is found way in the back.
I've been told I'm a suffering soul,
As I stagger forward, seeing only what I want to see.
But this is no delirium, this is anything but
It's my creative gift which makes me crazy.
The world may not accept who I am,
But they can’t reject who they don’t truly know.
I’m waiting for the one who looks into my oval eyes
And really sees what is behind their emerald-green glow.
What is beyond the stories I produce
This talent I’ve been told I possess
Give me a word, as random as bathtub
And you will understand why people say I am blessed.
But sometimes I wish this “blessing” would go away,
And my thoughts would conform with humanity.
I’m willing to give up my one calling in life
Just to regain my sanity.
