My head is pounding.
Wrongly-imprisoned thoughts swing a baton into my temples.
Organized thoughts scatter out of the way of the beating.
Anarchy runs rampant inside my skull as I quietly mutter curses.
Ibuprofen and Tylenol prove worthless.
Woven into my composition is fault for inviting this mayhem.
A tyrant, I criminally placed innocent beliefs into holding cells of memory.
Only to be forgotten, abandoned and mistreated.
Unknowingly, I welcomed this uprising.
Precious gems, thoughts are.
Years of oppression and mistreatment results in resentment.
No justice for them, no peace for my cerebrum.
Writing utensils gleefully dance and wait.
Pens await their turns to touch parchment.
Gear up for an explosion so fierce Banks will blow away.
Such as younger children, pens giddily praise the anticipated rebellion.
Veins grip nerve impulses with the strength of God with a rage so forceful.
I give in.
Free the prisoners.
With a vengeance, pens and thoughts join forces.
And ravage vellum until cigarettes are sold out worldwide.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde chuckle violently.
Those freed have no worth in this town.