Fish in a fishbowl,

swimming around,

lost in forever,

to never come down.

Birds of a feather,

sticking together,

crashing like trees

that must finally come down.

Bubbles in soda,

rising high to pop against the surface,

to break into my mental stupor,

to bring me back to myself.

My mind is dark with hidden messages

that are delivered while I sleep

by pigeons and toads,

by crickets sounding in the night.

I am insane,

I admit it,

but am I really,

I want to know.

People think that because I'm different

I am strange, and therefore crazy,

that because I question the way things are,

I cannot be allowed to walk the world free.

That is why I'm crazy,

to allow myself to be different

in this Big Brother is Watching kind of world

where neighbors spy into the windows of your mind.

I am crazy because I couldn't hide myself

behind walls and barricades,

that I did not try to keep the world out,

but instead welcomed it inside.

I accept the fact that I am strange,

a new creature to walk the land,

but does that mean that I am crazy,

or that the world is crazy, and I am sane?