M.A.D ~ Philip Brent

I

This doctor said I might be crazy
No real worry, if the doc’s unsure
I get twisted, my mind most mazy
Will I get out; will they find a cure

Well’s bottom, as water gets deep
The bucket is broken, rope frayed
Am I but dreaming, still fast asleep
Fear to discover my candle mislaid

Oh, hell, I’ll climb out of this hole
Slip and scrabble, as I try to climb
Such a small hole above is my goal
Attempt less than moves of a mime

What is the point I have to wonder
Dark occludes my tiny point of light
Working so hard to end, up yonder
Yet half the time, life’s black as night

I think I’m drawing closer to the sky
With colors, hues, I never imagined
That moment, no wherefores, whys
New world to greet me glory limned

II

But what if the sun blazes searing hot
And I’ve lived better off down the well
Till I get there can’t tell if it will or not
Diving back down would not work well

Everyone in the whole world wonders
What is the what, the where and how
Anyone thinks we’ll stay here ponders
What it is that we should be doing now

Don’t have answers or understand it all
Life must be easier than it’s been so far
Stop our killing, greed, hate, to stand tall
Becoming numb but no answers at a bar

If the pub, greed, hate, work leaves pain
What will we then try to slake our need
Give up all progress made and begin again
Return to hunting, gathering with all speed

But wait, you say, we have done really well
So well that those on top grow fat and lazy
Early humans lasted longer; ain’t that swell
Do I care; this doctor said I might be crazy