Uncontrolled Brain


My brain is not like most.

It holds my thoughts,

From pillar to post.

It is my prison of thoughts.

The place where I come up with plots.


What makes it function?

What makes it tick?

It isnt me that controls it,

The people have the controller stick.

People's words, emotions and actions,

maybe even a fatal attraction.

To that beautiful girl,

or the desatrous tornado whirl.


It isnt me that controls my brain,

just how it is not me that controls the rain.

It may be logical,

but it drives me insane.



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