I am a versatile prose spilling machine
repairing broken beauty with glowing happiness.
That's on a good day.
When sadness severely stings I remain unseen
With words unspoken knowing madness.
Who am I? It hard for me to say.
I am a black hole with gravity so strong
My happiness get trapped deep inside.
I pace back and forth for a time so long
A hole forms around me before I can decide
What goal is the one that really belongs.
Who am I? Seems an easy question.
I get by sneaking past sleeping depression