Mystically Insane Poem by neo riddick

Walking around in a faceless society bearing a frown
there is no one else to blame
wearing a big red nose, and floppy shoes. You are a clown
Is this really 'IT'? this simple world is so lame.
this condition does exist
staring at the moon. begging the Cosmos for some sign of hope
hating yourself. hating other's. confusion just brings on a scowl
one thought is persistent. am I really dead. no I am a dope
and it does have a name
run about. the full moon is meant to make one howl
so very unknowing
wishing. hoping. wanting. yearning. screaming. hurting. dying
years may pass. people will pass on.
will this all change? or just remain the same?
the name is Mystically Insane