My Madness

The world around me, by itself, is dead

At a quick glance all there is to see is busy bodies

Rushing around, to and fro

Their meaning is unclear

And when they’re gone

Nobody knows where they go

But if you were to take a closer look

You’d see what I see

Everything’s so clear to me

The world is not completely dead

There’s still beauty and love to be found

But only if one takes the time

To reignite it and bring it back around

The artists with their paint brushes

They paint inspiring scenes

With colors that are bright

To capture the image

Of a vivid starry night

And musicians grab their bows,

Bang their drums, and play their sweet melodies

Filled with dreams and woes

The athletes pound out the sounds of distraction

They keep their eye towards their goal

The pressure of working towards what they want

Is rewarded by the cheering that explodes

And the dancers with their sleek bodies

Spin gracefully in the air

And they work together, hand in hand

To lighten the constant feeling of despair

The little techno-geeks even play a part

Their constant typing makes the world go ‘round

Their tap tap tapping continues from within their lab

While no one else hears a sound

And the writers have put down their quills,

Their pens, and their pencils

They pick up a tablet or ipad

And scroll out the secrets of the world

Though I still reach for the pen

With a paper pad forever stuck to my hand

Waiting for whatever mad thought

Makes the air seem more breathable

All is quiet when I don’t write

I’m not an artist or an athlete or computer geek

I can’t find comfort in the constant thumping of bass

Or in the swirling motion of my hair around my face

I am a recluse that finds comfort in the dark words of Poe

And the depressing babblings of Salinger

When I am scared I hide behind my books

Until I have the courage to come back again

Though that’s not why I write

I write to inspire

I write to create

Because in my head I have ideas

That make this ever-dying world seem great