My Old Poems (2011)

This Disease #23

This Disease

Heals the sublime

It will release

You of this time

It desires

All your needs

It retires

On the inside it feeds

You want it to leave

But it stays by

It's a burden to heave

This disease will lie 

Deep inside

Of your mind

There is no place to hide

What you find 

Out about this disgrace 

Called insanity

How could you show your face

Through all this vanity 

What you need 

Is to turn around

And read

About this joy that can be found 

You lie deep inside the depths of my mind

You are so weary

And in a bind 

With the dreary

This disease needs to be lifted

From my mind

And gifted

To an eternal bind

This poisonous sting

Of this snake

Will make you sing 

But never wake

This disease will never be healed

It will remain

I hope you are strong willed

Because you won't win you will be slain