My nerves are a tingle.
My hands start to shake.
I am uncertain
if I'm dreaming or awake.
A terrible thing; most unkind
as thoughts race through my mind.
What happens to us,
if this Nation of We,
becomes that beckoning light,
that flickers and dies?
My mind is running away from me.
I think I need a pre frontal lobotomy.
Thoughts that are stuffed in every place,
Wedged in cracks or any empty space.
I need some time. Time to think
Or I may have to turn to drink.