• … I am in this small room. As you can't see me, but I can see you! Everyone has a special place to go to when they are sad or scarred, or even just lonely; mine is that little room, where I may hide in the corner. It is not a physical room, it is but a mental structure placed in my head (in another dimension!) where I may dwell in a disturbing peace. Those who ever witnessed my art may have a quick glance of what has been tucked neatly away deep inside of me. What does this room look like you ask? Well I don't think you would actually want to know, or maybe you just would not understand. Anyway, here it goes( in a poetic form)…
    The walls are cement and are cracking
    Sanity is one thing that the room is lacking
    Those who have angered me are brutally tormented
    Their limbs pulled and tugged out of place
    The silenced horror across their face
    The ceiling is filled with needles sharp as a car
    A smile here shall last somewhat long
    A koala viciously grins near the side of the room
    The stench is as empty as a spirits tomb
    Only a flickering light bulb allows some since of security
    If you shall enter you will be ripped and torn of your impurities
    Make sure to wipe your shoes on the corpse hung on the wall
    If you jump off the edge it wont be to long of a fall
    Smile and frown at those who scream
    They are just in a forsaken dream
    Did you here the man laughing
    He died near that log in the 3rd wall
    The babies are still crafting
    Rape the therapist with a spork
    Then shoot his b***h with a rock
    For the rock is made up of the cement that fell off of the walls

    From the little bugs who defy the laws
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    (it isn't a flaw)
    ..The duck ended the poem… he shut the door…