This is stupid, these people insane.
See the list on the wall?
The god they understand
seems not to be hitting the mark,
restoring them to sanity.

It’s a nuthouse. The doctor’s an idiot
to think they can help me.
Psycho babble. No, not quite.
Theo babble maybe.
A herd of lemmings
chanting the chants,
clinging together,
hugging, holding on
like rats on the deck
of a sinking ship.

They talk of what they’ve got,
expect me to want it.
They’re pleasant enough,
nice to me but what do they have I want?
Still there’s something I can’t quite name,
some air, a breath of hope maybe.
What is it they have I want?