Bipolar
Outside so normal
War rages in
Torn by emotions
Square set his chin
High, low wild changes
Mere hours between
Racked with evil thoughts
Dressed neat and clean
On top of the world,
Mad skills in his bag
Dark outlook, defeated,
His spirit doth drag
Medications so futile
Swift change is his lot
From happy to dismal
Like fever cold to hot
Friends are his lifeline,
Yet little they know
The way that a pistol
His temple doth know
“This too shall pass”
Has failed him complete
A lifetime his sentence
With trials replete
Life is so dismal
Hopelessly drear
Wandering aimless
His sight never clear