Lost and Illicit

I have come to be
Not to see
With the analysis paralysis
I cannot count the numbing numbers
Ease on by with a sly and shy eye

Allow your brain to fry every now and then
So it may regrow under a new light
With new sight

Reaching for the signs that baffle the masses
Protoplasmic advances
And trances
That are France's moonlight romances

Reviews

[...]

. ha ha ! ... excellent word and thought play ...
. especially in the last stanza ...