My mind is like a bird without wings,
though it still attempts to fly.
It is sometimes like a bird that can’t sing,
and yet it will always find a way to try.
It is often like a dog who’s lost its owner,
though he is never too far from his friend.
It is like a cat who prefers to be a loner,
and yet, every day, he still gets out of bed.
My mind is wild and prefers to be free.
It is impulsive, erratic, and rather strange,
though that is what makes me so carefree—
even if I am just a little insane.