It seems unreal to think that I’ve been stripped
of memories, events, some names, and loves
My brain was injured, in my skull it slipped
My neurons lost their reference “withs” and “ofs”
There’s noone on this earth who can attend
to mislocated neurons, set them right
and so at times I feel I’m left to fend
against the unmarred brains I have to fight
or argue, they don’t like it when I yell
but I don’t like it when they touch, and so
“Don’t touch me, please,” I use and often tell
the toucher that my tolerance is through
I tell them that I wore a green beret,
whose instinct comes against my chosen way.