This Malady
Listen to this naysayer,
Where thee never meets his course,
Deny deny deny,
Nein nein nein as the Germans say,
His heart is hard like a stone,
He battles with his own emotions,
That lead his head topsy-turvy,
He's ill tempered,
Loathsome bipolar they call him,
Mixture of poisons stifle his heart,
Where no words venture in that dark cavern cold,
Love never thrives in it,
This malady is left untreated,
Till the day he carries it to his grave.
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