TWENTY FOUR

To find yourself
You must enter through the head;
Clearing eyes,
Under air tunnels,
Rounding a bend
Where elsewhere ends,
By a memory
Long dismissed,
And into the heart of the mind
Where hither is,
And has defined
The start of yourself.
Onto the edge
Of the id’s home,
Tiptoeing quietly
To bolt from its hold,
And fleeing anxiety,
Schizophrenia’s lair,
Paranoia’s there too,
And disorder and stress;
Passing acquaintances
No time to address.
Faster and further
And finer until
The last of the mind,
Has been defined
By a boundary line.
But where is spite,
The source of all fear,
Took a vacation
Says aunty sanity, oh dear,
We’ll have to wait another year
To be submerged under its hand,
And recommended surgery.