It was once a scene, oft repeated,
a drifting mental contact with others.
It brought grins and laughs, and made
it stand out, with in the crowd.
Held tight, to the chest, as not
to be seen, in any other light,
than humor, not humor, wit,
a wit that at times jumped the tracks
and roared through the wilderness.
Till eyes were wide with fear
screams would echo, and sobs could be heard.
Just joking, just holding a vigil for those
who are not with us, all the time.
A vigil for those who are among us and
hiding behind the mask of normalness
a average, a careful step, for when alone
the mask does no good, just the pills, the pills
doctor doctor where are the pills, the blue ones
it chases away the others, and the persons of doubt and fear.
Where are the red ones, to cage the animals, the snakes and rats.
Where are the green ones, to stop the urges and knifes, shiny
Where are the black ones, that bring relief and sleep then
dreams, so fluid and lucid the walk is with the name.
My name, your name, it makes no difference,
Just awake and hide and not let anyone know.