My mind, I'm told, is nothing but mold, even though the thing is not too old.
Covered in fuzz, greenish-white i think, there is no doubt my scalp now stinks.
Although it's over, my mind now void, I take peace in knowing our minds are all toys.
Controlled or persuaded by "Society knows best." believe what they say; "Everyone like the rest."
Truth be told, to be rather bold, I'm glad my mind is nothing but mold.
In a world alone it'd be quite cold knowing my future's being unrolled by the very people who turned my mind to mold.