My mad me

Silly things

Like hair pins

To tidy bugs wings

Like roller skates

For snakes

And custard pies

Instead of eyes

Like jellied bikes

And steering wheel spikes

Like pea sandwiches

And ticklish itches

Like washing books

And licking cooks

These things confuse

But I refuse

To do what’s right

Do what I like

They stand and stare

What do I care?

I look and laugh

To show I have

No care for them

And their brain phlegm

I care not

Not one jot

Who what when

But wonder then

What have I not

That they have got

Makes them so dumb

So mean and numb

And me so silly

So forgiving and willing.

Am I wrong and are they right?

They feel like day, I feel like night.

I do not fit

I don’t care a bit

I am sorry

If you think I’m off my trolly

I still can’t care

Do what I dare

Make them feel something

Discomforting.

 

© Jennifer Winterburn

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