Bipolar

​With once wicked whispers we weaped our worries. 

 In invincible indictment we individually create our stories. 

 Calmly crawling for calamities sake, 

We wonder wearily until we break.

Enter into the shadow of a broken heart.

Where light is seen far apart. 

Drifting through a muddy landscape, 

Our souls are looking for their escape. 

We feel as if we may decay.

Our heart is full, of things, in our way.

A form we may take, this form is so fake.

On an invisible shore,

Ourselves abhor,

The memories for, 

Things we cannot restore. 

The pain began to bore,

My pen began to outpour.

Brought out like a roar,

“Shall it cease?” I emplore. 

“I seek release.” I can’t endure. 

But things that are bad begin to grow well,

And feelings of hope begin to swell.

 Mind merely meddled amongst memories paat. 

With people of our type, similar emotions do not last 

In a moment of thought, our hearts grow forsaken. 

And in that time, our happiness taken.

But as it went, shall it surely be,

Again in your sight, for those who can see.

Emotion is like the ocean,

It can be guided or faught. 

But storms sometimes happen that can be delayed by naught.

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