Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Most days, the sun shines


But common are the days of defeat.


Wear a smile to show I’m fine


Without a desire to drink or eat.


 


There is no cure for this disease


That forces me to put pen to page.


An addiction cripples me 
with
 ease



And spark the flames that 
are 
sorrow and rage.



 


Sometimes, I wish banish this passion


Eating away at my peace of mind and sanity.


Feelings of inadequacy comes in passing


Just seen I think I found recipes to be happy.


 


My entire life, I sought a fairytale in books


And when I found it, depression felt like a tale.


I have wrote about kings, queens, Gods, heroes and crooks


In the name of passion, only to remain in a perennial hell.



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