normal?
psycopath tendencies never elude,
my psyche a chalkboard for scholars,
to configure what unknown prognisis,
is left to discover,
un-cover, devour, exploit,
medicate, never emancipate,
only a wall of mirrors,
enter the dragon style,
where the villian with claws,
cuts me and laughs as I withdraw,
publicly humiliated by what I've become,
and to think that we all have tendencies,
of wrong,
wrong or not normal,
and what is this become,
socially accepted by ones,
who have never experienced the fun,
real life living without bright sun,
if only my loved ones,
would know what I've become,
in-geniuous,
how chameleon-like,
I have become.
