An Angry Dance

Could it be from ants

Crawling up my pants

Or an angry dance

With cognitive dissonance

*

It could be the strain,

Placed upon my brain

To try and refrain

What happens again

*

It could be the fear

The gray between my ears

For that which is clear

Might not really be here

*

Part of the frustration

Is my imagination

Seeking clarification

To my damnation

*

Carlin, who is now gone

Joined the big electron

The laughter lives on

With each awakening dawn

*

For Hicks it is a ride

What kind, I  can’t decide

Only to deride

Avoid a suicide

*

That is my drive

Of which I strive

Not to survive

But to be alive

*

With little finesse

I digress

Hate to confess

I’m a mess

*

A coin,  two sides. Has to be

Trouble is, I see at least three

From these thoughts to be free

Seem to can’t,  me being me

*

A strange reality

Seeing the duality

With opaque clarity

Of spirituality

*

A rage inside,  it does vent

Unfortunately all too frequent

I would buy, or even rent

Anything to be congruent

*

Cuts like a knife

This life of rife

Inside my head of strife

Must be hell to be my wife

*

Under a double edge sword

I give you my word

With this you may be floored

I’d be happy being bored

*

The thoughts that I wreak

Should not pass the cheek

For if I do speak

Exposes the freak

*

Furtively overt

Asleep or alert

Exposed, yet covert

Remain silent or blurt

*

How to stop this dichotomy

Without a lobotomy

Don’t try and be me

Or you will not be free

*

My life it would enhance

If by perhaps or perchance

Just one less dance

With cognitive dissonance