Clinically it’s a condition,

realistically it’s a prison.

If’n when I will mention apologetically,

literally my verses are spoken devoid of cushion.

Pushin’ blindly to the edges of morality,

actually your sunrise is not my conviction.

Fractions of understanding vanish rather quickly,

as normalcy makes for inaccessible fiction.

Wishing for the gumption to alter this cerebral function,

I retreat with agitated caution, your logic is truly awesome.

Autumn brings change, but true solace comes from apathy.

Sympathy is too costly, often intimidating the victim.

Kingdoms are for the blessed, I’m standing at the boundary,

now it must be, I confess – so I’m granted my freedom.