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Breeann Mahoney Poem
There she goes the Bi-Polar Queen on her typical manic daydream
steppin to the tunes in her head, while hanging on her manic ledge.
Girl don't you worry, girl don't you cry,
Step out of your box, step out of your mind,
Let go of that ledge your gonna be fine.
I know it's hard for you to let go, when hanging on is all you've known
Though if you let go, you will see, that in letting go, you'll set yourself free.
Copyright © Breeann Mahoney | Year Posted 2006
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Breeann Mahoney Poem
Manic Depression is all she can say, Manic Depression her moods swing
that way.
One minute she's up, one minute she's down, like riding on a constant
Merry-Go-Round.
So if she doesn't answer her front door or the phone it only means please,
leave her alone.
And do not take it personally these manic phases that you see, it's a
chemical imbalance inside her brain that makes her act a little insane.
Copyright © Breeann Mahoney | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Breeann Mahoney Poem
She sits alone most days most nights, perched in corner with her pipe
smoking rock she holds on tight only to fade into the light of the flickering
candle she burns so bright.
For nightowl knows all is not right, can't find her way she won't fight so, death
awaits her final flight perched in corner with her pipe that numbs all feelings
that wrongs all right.
Running scared into each day from Columbian Cowboys to collect a deed of
laundered money, lust, and greed.
So close the door the windows now, lock them tight, don't make a sound and
creep around quietly if any should knock you, can't be to trusting in your spot.
Now, let the tears build up til your weak in your knees, and keep on smoking
to the wheeze, of the poison your pipe does breed.
Copyright © Breeann Mahoney | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Breeann Mahoney Poem
Up all night into the dawn, pipe in hand til it's gone,with a friend
who does the same we always like to play this game.
Now it gets weird it gets strange, feeling numb feeling deranged
lurking and creeping with the shades pulled drawn day is here though
we're all gone.
And good friend Jone's won't go away sits in pipe til next day, when we
scrape to find it there just an illusion do not care need to stop and show
our ware.
We're not misfits come look and see, just avoiding reality.
Copyright © Breeann Mahoney | Year Posted 2006
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