If the mind can be opened can it then be locked
So that thoughts in its chamber can find no escape?
If confined in this manner how does on behave?
Does one look for another one’s mind to deprave?
Does one need but a mind to perform mental rape
Because evil is too much fun not to concoct?

I’m obsessed with ideas and preoccupied
With interrogating everything that I know.
What I don’t know is questionable just as well.
I would hope there is worth in what I think and tell.
My mind is more than open. That’s why the words flow
Like the falls of Niagara. I’m rather wide.

It may border on nonsense. The things that I say
Have their own kind of meaning. But meaning, as such,
Has its way of opposing itself in the mind
Due to its fickle nature. Therefore I’m resigned
To not being disabled nor soft to the touch.
Inasmuch as there’s some hurt I’ll get through my day.

Tending to my suspicions of all that exists
And of much of what does not is fair exercise
For the mind in the mundane and madly mainstream.
I’m aware from the git go that life is no dream.
It takes not a disaster to open my eyes
To the reality that compulsion enlists.