every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around

do you hear the quiet?
it's quite a riot.
how violent is this silence?
it's not that he's shy.
it's just that it does us no good,
without a word it's still a lie.
at some point everyone cries,
in the end everyone dies.
if you look at it my way,
somehow we all mute the screaming insides.
on the exterior voices do seem more absurd.
head full of twisted thoughts better left unheard.
maybe i'm cursed, because i delude every word,
leaving me disturbed.
and quite senseless maybe to things i see as unimportant.
but it's all silence i hear and sometimes it's distorted.
and by the way, this is all how i record it.
there's no price to understand me; anyway no one could afford it.
locked in my own personal asylum, making me want to take my
valium. but where is it? and how long is this maze in my mind?
every thought is a daze and my way i can't find.
so i sit in the middle of my sound proof pen,
no door to let a stranger in,
and i wonder if ever again i'll regain my Zen.
maybe sometime i'll find the right path.
right now i just need to scream, or a good mental bath.
but i'm trapped in gray matter, and i can't even laugh.
jkidd
4/2/02

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there is a path to end all suffering. please choose yours wisely