Everyone around me is wandering through a broad status,
And I've stuck most of them under my own;
I know I'm picky about who goes where and why,
But this way I think's the only one I've known.
When you break the loop to poke your head in and laugh,
You don't know you're in a narrow maze; that's why I laugh too.
You're back to seeking cheese that gets you through each day,
And when I cry it has not a thing to do with you.
Dad's been telling me we're the same since I was born;
If they believe this lie, I know more then them.
The reason I built this isn't clear, as I'm torn,
But anything not to aid the problem.
Born Bipolar, I'm still not above all thought yet,
'Won't give up to Depression, father's image, your drugs.
Being inspired means being Manic, not human;
It's okay, my conscience tells me: we're far higher than slugs.














Critiques
Thank you for your Critique
You are not logged in.