Uncle Melvin

what my uncle in the psyc ward must be thinking,

I walk these halls
As gallows mock
With framed pastels blind

 

Where mother left
And father said "freak"
You're no son of mine

 

Alone among the Rockwells
Lined-up of someone else's
Many celebrated lives

 

I guess that's because
Mister Norman Bates
Never really learned how to paint

 

And if he had, I'd be there too
Hung up in the blackest black
For the whole damned world to see!

 

So now it's red or blue for breakfast
And mystery meat in between
But, all I have to say is...

Where the hell is my life. paradise or ecstasy?!