Plant A Tree Poetry Poet Rhyme

Me and My Anxiety

If my mind were a war torn map and anxiety an invading force
A thorough search of my cerebrum would avail no remorse
Is there a hoard of grotesque assailants standing at the border
Or do I suffer from tensions dispensed by some mental disorder

None the less I attack first with nothing but the element of surprise 
No weapon, no armor, no countrymen, just a crumbling enterprise
I swing my sword in the direction of the pale ghost filling the night 
Cutting to ribbons the notion that I released a lost dog in the fight

Misfortune is mine as the battle rages in the back of my optical lobe
Fixated on the fact that there is a fixed fight at the end of the road
Without negligence I execute the figure who seems to be orchestrating
The darkened world in which I have been unsuccessful in navigating  

With a cough of blood his mouth released a final exasperating word
A man cannot win when he cannot escape falling on his own sword
It took years of tears, torture, trials and tribulations for me to see
Thine own enemy I could not circumvent was me and my “anxiety”

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Phil Capitano March 9, 2017 at 7:19 AM Excellent description of the torment, Plant, with a scientific bent. Kudos.

Andrea Dietrich February 24, 2017 at 7:38 PM this is astounding poetry, Mr. Plant a Tree Poetry. LOVED it. If I had it in an anxiety contest, I think for sure I'd place it.

Tim Smith February 24, 2017 at 5:14 PM Awesome poem poet. It speaks volumes