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.