In The Bread Box

In the bread box lies my mind,
With all the things I've left behind,
From all the days of lustrous rain,
I've drained my thoughts, become insane.

My memories have flown away,
My mind, an empty shell,
For illusions fill reality,
And shield me from this hell.

Frosted pandas in the morning,
With a cheery cherry tart,
Dancing round and round the iron boat,
And drinking bowls of art.

In the evening, there's the zebra,
And he sings out to the sky,
Sending prayers towards the fish almighty,
Fish, almighty, high.

In my nightmares, I see butter,
Dancing round with a raccoon,
A Bulgarian man from the North,
Divides us with a spoon.

Sewing fabric into teacakes,
Eating crumpets on the sun,
Cooking chopsticks with a curtain,
And proclaiming I'm the one.

This is all that I can notice,
While my mind duth breadbox lurk,
Then, I look around and find it's true,
Im only stuck at work.