Poetic Form: Sonnet Inspired: 2023 December 21 Image: N/A
This intrusion on my psyche tosses a faint desire for up-smelling roses. My shrink says this urge imposes losses that the former countereffect poses. I'm unable to muster the strength to combat this bogus hope, this travesty that impedes my efforts to better clue cures, possibly true hope would be savvy. Trust I won't digress to a depressive state, bantering, hauntingly about my kind, they'll lock me up for sure, aggressive, delusions--you're getting all worked up. I will be back. They're comin' to take, ... it's me, they'll wrap and cell me, ... but I got the key.
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