What's My Name Again

Heads a mess, can't think straight,
mental status is up for debate.
Constant state of delusion,
eyes only see optical illusion.
Inner voices cloud the mind,
can't deal with the daily grind.
Popping pills helps to think,
otherwise would be driven to drink.
Pills in the morning, pills in the night,
without warning, could start a fight.
One minute Jekyll, one minute Hyde,
split personality standing side by side.
Sometimes country, sometimes rock,
sometimes pussy, sometimes cock.
Sometimes naughty, sometimes nice,
sometimes fire, sometimes ice.
Pills must not be working,
more personalities are slowly lurking.
Every day is something new,
remembering the days of just a few.

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poem by Allen Wilbert
Added by Poetry Lover
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