Prognosis

I’m sorry to confirm,
You have a case of thought worm.

Soon they will infect your brain,
With reverberated pain.

They will burrow and squirm
And spread their sperm.

Then their spawn will begin to drain
And eventually you’ll be driven insane

You gotta hold firm,
Cause you’re in it for the long term.

I say it again,
In vigilance you must remain.

Still, you’re gonna end up infirm,
Cause you’re infected by a thought worm.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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