Poetry Disease

-Infected- with *PSD My luck is tough, My life has been rough, I cannot feel my dreams, I dream of dreams, that can't be felt. In the deep corners of my mind There is something there no one will ever find I close my eyes and disappear into a world of loneliness CAN I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL?? This is how I feel! I feel lost, then I feel complete How can this be? Poor little old me~ I find myself with this crazy addiction A state that moves me causing all kinds of unnecessary friction Becoming another weak addict to something greater than, ------------Drugs and Alcohol This affects my entire family No one around me is sure on how to react This addiction makes crack look like an antibiotic I see it in their faces The disappointment! The disgrace! They gave up the practice when it comes to tough love Guilty I confess, an addict in my own house Far from reality, not caring about that man once called my spouse Yes, I chose my dose of non-fictional poets over him I don't feel the shame the day I let him walk away Far, far away, I had nothing to say Hitting rock bottom, maybe it's too late to rebuild my life Not wanting to claw my way out of the hole Rebuilt I will, through a magical poem, in this soup bowl Here, you find me swimming with a crowd of wonder Other creative people whose words speak louder than thunder At first I thought I found a means to lock out all the bother Hiding from all my responsibilities Letting go of all my possibilities Lacking the strong point of running out from the shaft I sit here-- Sadder than the saddest tears you've ever experienced Behind the soup screen, is where I found myself I told nobody else. I'm failing to admit to my fellow poets The soup is a wonderful disease, It keeps me from a good sleep, With all these poems that put my mind at ease I love the way it has full control, no matter where I go It's true like an addict, family, friends don't matter anymore I log on and want more, more and more. Every poet here has been here for me through good or bad Like a drunk suck!ng it up when I feel sad The poetry soup, ~ IS MY VERY OWN SIN CITY! Here is where I want to spend eternity Embrace, me in ways that make me happy Here I feel - - I feel - - SO! - - SO! - -SO! Free! A simple disease that needs no cure Here I feel very secure This is no drug, here you find no rock & roll I'm drinking up the soup, like an alcoholic's goal Spreading the poetry soup disease, puts my mind at ease Knowing poetry over powers' suicidal thoughts anytime. Here ~I~ REST IN PEACE With A Poetry Soup Disease