Subjective Diagnosis
I could be classified
Labeled, Deemed, whatever,
As probably insane.
I laugh at this theory,
But some of the surrounding
Facts verify the thought.
A circumstance rises,
And is brought to my mind.
I do what I do best.
I think of the events,
I overthink the risks,
And I make my choices.
Choices, as in more than.
More than one end product,
More than one end result,
Because with a single
Choice, comes multiple ends
Which in itself lead to
New starts and chances at
Getting one’s life just right.
But each method takes time,
Especially if it’s
New! And Especially
If one has the whole pot
With their chips stacked up high,
And a Rabbit Foot Shrine.
Any mistake that one’s
Liable to make could or
Be liable to break
Could self-incriminate
That person beyond faith.
This tragedy alone
Would tear up the fabric
Of the prized policy.
And distresses like this
Have come and gone in time,
And out of time.
So for one to waste time
Through the constant relays
Of the exact wars that
Have Goaded minds and cores
Is undoubtedly daft.
Therefore being guilty
Of this I have deduced;
I am in fact insane.