oh woe is the state of me
am I beyond repair?
if’t be true mine heart lies at the city centre
wherefore doth it not get along with its neighbor brain
which dwells near by in northern suburb?
thoughts after all bringeth forth emotion
and though synapse art wearied and has’t suffered damage
they doth still transit thither
***I asketh thee, please forgive mine feeble attempts at sounding “Shakespearean” and the resulting butchery.