THOUGHTS ARE STRANGE
 

Angels possess me.

Demons molest me.

An' what's even worse,

Is it just might be,

Visa verse.
 

The past haunts me.

The future daunts me.

I guess, in the present tense,

I'm just too hesitant.
 

The T.V. News don't really tell me much,

In half a breath.

But it still scares me nearly half to death.

It just might be an' overreaction,

Of my big imagination.

I guess I read too much between the lines,

Just puttin' too many thoughts,

In other people's minds.
 

I see visions of Glory tell.

An' I see visions of gory Hell.

I see black.

I see white.

But what scares me most,

Is what I see at night.

I dream of wonderful things.

But some of my nightmares,

Would make you scream.
 

I listen to the silence,

An' try not to hear the violence,

Goin' on all around me.
The dead aren't always buried underground,

You see.

Copyright © 1993 by Alexander McDonald

All rights reserved.