From Good To Worse
In life's halls, man built walls, lost curtain calls.
Lost moments to steal, too fast to feel, seemed dreams unreal.
Memory sought, again I forgot, pushed through thought.
I did plateau, but up I go, sometimes real slow.
But seriously, to what degree, my mind to free.
I ponder how, to make a vow, and take encore bow.
But nonetheless, I do confess, my mind's a mess.
This poem is bad, please don't be sad, I am not mad.
For if crazy, I am to be, I will not see.
How fast I went, my mind is spent, on head I dent.
If this my curse, my final verse, from good to worse.