Here's a DR. P. Poorluk poem for all of you emotional types. Concept via my Rise of the Assweeds blog.
I've taped my windows to my house, securely fastened like a louse.
Drilled new peepholes to see who's there. My aim was off, can only see hair.
About the house my peepholes fall, at least 13 through every wall.
Here and there I came to find, wires in walls that cooked my mind.
The drill hit one and shot out a spark, so now I'm hidden in the dark.
I find in the dark number two can be done, but I'm still perfecting number one.
So now I hold number one till the day, at times I can't make it all the way.
Small price to pay for my seclusion, mother says I'm in some kind of delusion.
She wouldn't think of who's lurking about, she's stuck at home rubbing her gout.
But I know the freaks outside of my door, the weirdos, the crazies with whom I'm at war!
*Gonzo the cat was not hurt in the creation of this poem.*