Order in Disorder A mystery box Full of paradox This history of me My sense of order Is a disorder Paradoxically My poetry goes Like this I suppose As what I do to be It just goes this way Being so to say Written in Lancean It must be just so (And just so you know All of it is for you) Better to be than Not to if I can Doing what I can do I never could change Have always been strange From a strange family Hard to understand But this is it and This is what got me through Obsessing guessing Confessing messing Around with words somehow Is what I do now Who I am and how This disordered order I do not complain Of my damaged brain Because I got this too A mystery box Full of paradox Order in disorder Steven Curtis Lance