When Synapses Go Bad

running away

 It often makes me think, and that’s the problem right there, to think and think and think and… it just never stops. On it goes, to think and think. What a pain in the butt. The thoughts you think. I mean, the thoughts that I think they, they bring me to the brink, the edge of the side turned upside around, I’m going down and down. At the edge, the edge just holding on. Fingers pounding, blood cells sounding like old air raid sirens. No not singing  sirens, air raid sirens. So loud so darn loud now. What am I going to do. Just run! Run, run, run, run, run, run. I can’t run , I can’t run, run, run anymore. Aw man. So I’ll sit down and cry. What!? I said I’ll just sit down and cry – why? You can’t do that man. You’ve got a wife in need, babies to feed, a dog too slow can’t follow where you’ll go. Then where will you be. So can’t you just see. It’s just you and me, the way it’s  meant to be. A crying shame. People watch with distain. They won’t feel the pain cause’ their living the lame existence of some not out on the run but back in the pack with Joeseph and Mack, workin in the factory with the big smokestack. Remembering the war took place a time before, knowing it wasn’t safe but they had no other place yeah it could have been, “Oh Canada”, but they would live in disgrace, so now they have found them living like a clown then the policeman came and they are living in shame. Moved the war from Laos now their in the “Big House”, no friends to be found, got to hold your ground. Far be it from me, to call Aunt Bee at Mayberry Town where my brother had found his fix for the hour then back up to scour, those dirty city streets try to find those dealing creeps, get him some dope then he’d have enough rope, to hang himself………. and that’s just what he did.