I see you here, I see you there
You sit upon my shoulder.
Biting thoughts, psychosis.
My voice it grows much colder.

Do I need to hear, I've failed this time,
You whisper in my ear
Clouded thoughts, depression
"You'll never be a seer"

"Your words they have no place
There nothing on their own"
Darkened verse, bipolar
Deep seeds of doubt are sown

Words are getting easier,
this rhyme, it starts to flow.
Colored ink, anxiety
My mind fails, starts to slow

I sit in this corner, tired and lost
let you of me, remind.
Muddled prose, immunity
"No muse", your lies unkind

"You'll win no prize, a fool,
your words they suck"
Defeated lines, stresses
No one will give a f**k

“take the blue pill now,
it dulls the minds desire”
Unraveled verse, illness
a wordsmith? or a liar?

But still I pen the words,
my crutch to ease the pain.
Concocted poems? defeated?
They all come out the same