Vexed Poem by Phil Soar

I have searched for explanations and solutions
For why my mind works in the way it does
Of why I went to find a resolution
And ended up upon a London Bus

I travelled to a psychic in the city
Who told me I was troubled and off-key
I told him that I thought it was a pity
And thought it strange that I sat on his knee

So many times my instincts have been suspect
My thoughts and deeds were often rather flawed
And when I’ve had a ‘moment’, when I reflect
It seems my system cannot be restored

So when I lie awake and feel quite flustered
Lying there with thoughts all mixed and vexed
I go and get a bowl of rhubarb custard
And wonder what on earth I can eat next