As my mind fell like wet cake to the ground,
It came around with ultrasound,
Reducing the torment bit by bit,
Cleaned off the s...,
That stifles it.
Reducing the nitro,
That burns so fast,
replaced with an amine,
Some peace at last.

Yes it comes,it comes,it comes around,
Like ultrasound,
When I hit the ground,
Ripping through my atoms like a jet,
I'm not there yet,Stuff to forget,
Not embittered by the flavour,so the odds are in my favour,
sonicated,bruised,but still plenty left to use.

I still know,very much so,
There are people out there,who are kind and aware,
people who know what it really means to care,
Those people give me hope and with a monster bag of dope,
I'll come around when I hit the ground,
The wet cake thats my mind and ultrasound.

That would make a good song. I could almost think up a good beat for that. Like a Frank Zappa tune.

Hello again dude,
Hope you are well.Just cruising by to check out the creative ones.I did not expect to find that kind of stimulation here.It is the only reason I stopped by again.Gonna read some more.See you about no doubt,peace out.

Really dig this piece.

Constructive criticism - I think the third stanza needs a little tweaking.

Note - I don't give constructive criticism unless I like a piece.

Hello plastic pancakes,

Polished I am not mate.Roughly hewn.I look forward to reading your stuff mate and thanks.

Wet cake was a term I heard in an episode of black books with Dylan Moran. "I can feel pieces of my brain falling away like wet cake".Beautiful. He tried to clean himself internally with oven cleaner."If it can clean an oven,it can clean me"was his reasoning.He was of course wrong.