Am I hyper? Have I had too much sugar?

 

Et c'est ca! Mon Dieu!!

 

Am I on?

 

Two pence more

is thrice as much

as six times less

than a score.

 

Open the door, she cried. There must be someone inside. Open the door, she cried.  There must be a reason to stay alive.

 

Odd, isn't it?

 

I find the place I return to in my mind

is less than a flavor or a color in time.

I find that the morrow of yester is near.

But the day of the turn of the yellow is fear.

 

I color you up one side and down the other.

And you call this life.

 

Frenetic. That's the word for it.