Sweet ADD, you groovy sod,
My jumbled thoughts often plod,
Turning them from mush to rotting cod.
And back once more again.
You are the daily affliction,
Making reality into rites of fiction
Of garbled commands on a mission,
Firing through my brain.
Random and fidgeting on the chair,
Like a person without any other cares,
Though really, I’m just full of empty stares,
With my wandering mind.
And in conversations I must butt in,
Otherwise, those fleeting thoughts grow thin,
They must accompany the chatting din,
Which is why I often opine.
Random is, what random does!
A sentence I used to smile and love,
It pushes the point and then it shoves,
Blackening the shine
Of what I think is truly fun
Though others say what should be done
Is deprive me of vital oxygen.
As I’m excitedly getting louder.