Uncleaned Mud

I'm not mad

I'm passionate about madness

Passionate about gladness

Passionate about kindness

I'm not mad

I'm just glad

I'm just a glad lad 

Full of mud

A muddy writing 

That floats on its own

By its own

Without being helped

Who needs help?

"I do!" says Muddy Maddy full of uncleaned mud

"What a lollipop! Happened that to be poppycock I would worry if I were you!" says Talkie Luckie who's not lucky at all but just pretends to be it. Everyone pretends it. 

"Only a popped-up brain. Opened up... I mean: an opened up brain, if that makes sense? Would that be...only a popped-up brain would be capable of creating a word such as 'poppycock' why would someone put a cock into a poppy? Into Poppy? Why would Poopy Poppy want a cock inside her? Or is it a him? Why?" that's what Muddy Maddy says after overhearing the glossy-gossiped word 'poppycock' from Talkie Luckie. 

Nobody will ever know what happened to Talkie Lucky after Muddy Maddy said that. She - Muddy - being mad always does what she says or, rather: says what she does. 

* * * 

Without much thought, Muddy Maddy wrote about it after finding out that she was covered in Talkie Lucky's blood. Too much talk irked her. Freaked her. So, now: we've got no talk, just a mad Muddy Maddy running madly with crawling blood all over her face without wanting to fall dead to the ground.