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  • There are multitudes of earwiggies
    And similar silky creatures
    Scrit scritch scratching
    Along the tunnels of my brain
    From one lobe to the other
    Scurrying on soft paws
    With an occasional pause
    To dig at a lump
    Or a bump or a fold
    Or a crevasse where
    An unpleasant memory
    Might be hiding
    Biding time till its turn comes
    To race madly from forebrain
    To midbrain to hindbrain
    Wreaking havoc as it careens
    Through the gray milky cores and
    Interfering with neurons
    Little spies, secretly speeding up
    The superhighway of spinal cord
    Carrying messages to and fro
    Now interrupted and scrambled
    So what the body should do
    It doesn't
    And odd looks ensue
    But it all makes sense to you
    Just like the
    Earwigs in your cerebellum.
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