Should you have cried //Dewberry sky

Screwy souls always fill more wholesome spaces in the world than sane ones,
and although they're sore from life and its sickeningly sweet atmosphere,it's spells of solitude that conditions solidarity.
                                 And when life ceases to be the party that went on all night,and begins to be the mess of a morning that follows,and you're hungover from the happiness that dulls down to a memory.
Try escape the loop of inertia stuck to you like chewing gum on a shoe's sole,and you fail.Fail miserably,only offsetting routine,replacing it with ornate excuses not to be.
                                                   Your soul is a screwy stew,reduced to chunks of smiles and fears.But it's these same souls that make art,that make the world a piece of it.The grand scheme of things.