Written when I went off my head with the PTSD, and threw everything away. home family and everything
and post notes and photos about your poem.
I’m breaking down.
What does one do, oh lordy, if I knew
It’s breaking my poor mind, I’m telling you
My nerves on edge, I grit my teeth
What does it take to find relief
It breaks my heart apart, it really do
Tears and angry words flow all around
Those bad vibrations, making so much sound
The anger starts, oh where’s my heart?
It’s ripping my poor life apart
Oh, lord what makes these crazy feelings start
There’s yelling, screaming everywhere
It’s killing me, don’t know one care?
And that old crazy farm is waiting there.
If I should cure myself I surely would
Who really knows, it maybe that I could
I’ve read the books, or most of them
By Gurus, shrinks and wise old men
Hey, maybe I’m just crazy, I don’t know.
Copyright © Peter Duggan