Mad Scientist

I have had often the habit,
Of digging too deep,
Into the private lives and minds
Of those friends that I keep.
You see, I never found it wrong
Or intrusive if I strikingly asked
Those questions that are to answer
Difficult; leave them masked.
If I waited until we were alone
I might ensnare you with emotion
And then deliver that unwanted gift
Of a beckoning favor, of commotion.
Then my friends would, somber,
Try to evade my words, my voice.
I simply would return with a stone
Expression; I leave little to choice.
So in this way I could draw out
The answer that I craved so badly;
Be they underwhelming or shocking,
I desired them, I obsess madly. Continue reading