Poemhead

Mental Calamity

There’s a bitter little rhythm

Pounding in my head

It’s tied up with words

Telling me “better off dead”

 

My little travesty

Such a mental calamity

To use my borrowed time

To shatter my sanity

 

What bitter pill

Might I find to swallow down

To stop the raging storm

That washes away my solid ground

 

This fight is picturesque

A vision of loveliness

But I guess I must have missed

Cause it ended with a kiss

 

And it seems

That all I do is try

Never get anywhere

Barely make it by

 

What sort of tragedy

Is an ever breaking heart

A view of the ever ending

Instead of the ever start

 

What are these words

That manifest the way they do

Are they cosmic roar

Or just feedback from thoughts of you

 

What sort of ending

Should I give this mess

A razor blade tragedy

Or a kiss of happiness

 

Does it matter

Like most things we do

They never seem to impress

Anyone outside of you

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