Somehow I’m always defined,

As weird, unusual, or odd.

When all it really is, is my mind,

has nothing to do with emotion or bod.

But I’m not odd, though I’m not the other,

I’m just perfectly fine,

though arguably ( just ask mother)

I’ve lost the mind that used to be mine.

Granted I may be a little off,

But I think that’s okay.

I’m rough and I’m tough,

Every single hour of every single day.