Sometimes he cannot recognize himself. <br />He cannot recognize his own hands, own legs, own shape, <br />even his own voice. It seems to him that he is an alien, <br />a man of different language who has been haunting him <br />for twenty four hours like a shadow. <br /> <br />Sometimes he calls himself by his own name. <br />It seems to him that thousand years have already passed. <br />Has his corpse been rotten then, or has he himself <br />been a mummy? Is he in a dwelling house or in a museum? <br /> <br />All on a sudden, he shouted loudly saying 'Thief! Thief! ' <br />Saying 'Police! Police! ', he caught red-handed <br />his one hand by the other and said to himself, 'Who are you <br />at this inopportune moment here? ' And instantly he releases <br />that hand, nobody knows why, getting afraid very much.<br /><br />Sayeed Abubakar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mad-4-2/
