PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There are cloudy thoughts of gloom that loom over my mind;

This depression is rooted in thoughts of impending doom.

The suppression of my thoughts demonstrates my futility;  

They always find a way to leak out without discretion.

They escape: progression is merely a mirage for regression.



These vain thoughts continue to pelt my mind's windowpane.

This philosophy I'm applying: Am I living or am I dying?

I'm drowning in puddles of commiseration and crying,

Underlying why this manifestation has become so foggy:

My existence is relying on my efforts at denying my sorrow.



I have arrived at the conclusion: I simply live in delusion.

I am desperate for a place where the weather is temperate.

My mood swings are negating even sunshine they're creating.

My mind is alternating between cold spells and heat waves.

My bipolar temperament is wading; it won't start fading.



I am constantly fearing my mind won't soon be clearing,

Because these stormy thoughts always seem to be appearing.

And my eyes are tearing, but no one's hearing my cries;

They're distracted by their skies comprising of rising suns.

I can only hope the weather forecast for tomorrow is better.