A Constant Wince
Doom clouds grow dark, hurt dispersed as If rain.
A repetition of anguish assumes the definition of pain.
Noble intentions depleted, good vibes unsustained.
Thoughts of turmoil now seeded, deeply infecting the brain.
Constantly reeling, Numb to all feeling, my heart still beats in vain.
Without form theirs no function, only sanity’s disfunction remains.
Still, at this conjunction, mustered gumption, I wait for that happiness train.
A shining ticket of luster, now clutched for the cluster of clouds of sadness and shame .
Stay firm on the tracks, know Time can’t go back, and all madnesses soon to be tamed.
Days on this rail, And emotionally frail, A surplus Purpose will plug the mental drain.
As fate would have it, destination in transit, normalcy returns to its ordinary plane.
Ending our endeavor, if one is clever, use confidence to color the mundane.
Discover and treasure, the ultimate pleasure,
Of self confidence you now have gained.
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