"The Madness" -- A Poem by Alex Sharpe
all of the dissuaded decors, and all of the imposturous abhors. Contrived and deprived of deliverance unabliged. Fainly thinking, painfully shanking – taking, waking, making, shaking – taking,
waking, somehow raking. Straight in the mind, but wrong in the head – but somehow completely 100 percent brain-dead. You fall to the ground, holler out sound. You make up – wake up everyone around.
You fainly chide, get on your ride – but you somehow still want the most pride. It’s the madness – the sadness that you have left behind. Increased corruption – creating self-destruction – it all
takes some time. You’re something so divine. Well hell singed your hair, left a mark you can’t declare. You sing out loud – throw your arms around. Induced into bondage, deduced into a montage, but
it’s all alright, because I’m in the fight. Just follow that red and yellow light. It shows you the path through darkness and makes that lot park-less. Hanging ornaments so tight. It took some time
to make this rhyme, trifling foppery – pretense and mockery. Your madness is extreme – something completely unforeseen. It is the feeling in the air that makes you pull your hair. Your madness is a
Godsend – to add to this glorious end.
© Copyright 2016 Alex Sharpe. All rights reserved.