My Troubled Brain
The doctors thought the solution
To my problems was just a matter
Of splitting my troubled brain.
But that only doubled my anxiety.
Now there’re two moody Jekylls.
One says white, the other black.
Angry words, endless arguments,
One hand gouging at my eyes,
While the other hand chokes me.
Enough! I put a pistol to my head.
They wrestle over which half will
Get splattered across the room.
Escape is the only remedy and
I’m ready to board the plane but,
Damn it! My ticket’s for the bus.
Horror Sleaze Trash 